Time Limit
by InstaGimp
Summary: When the Oculus, an orb of unimaginable power, goes missing, it is up to Theochron, the current Time Guardian, to find it. But others want its destructive potential for themselves, and will do anything to reach it first. Will Theochron recover the Oculus and protect the world from harm? Not unless he can make a few friends first. Not OC centric; the story's better than the summary.
1. Prologue

**My first Professor Layton story! Hooray! This story will be about my OC and his quest to recover a sphere of extreme importance, one with the power to control time. The problem? Said sphere could be anywhere, and even any time. In fact, it could be in the middle of London...2000 years ago! He'll definitely need help looking for it. But where to turn? And who else wants it? Do they have good intentions?**

**Oh, and the rest of the story will be in 3rd person. **

* * *

Prologue

An Ally

The Oculus.

I do not know how to explain it in regular terms. It is, however, a fundamental part of the universe itself. The Oculus can manipulate time, making it both incredibly useful and incredibly dangerous.

It is useful because it enables me to control how the time stream flows, removing inconsistencies and obstacles in its way.

It is dangerous because anyone who has ill intentions can easily do almost anything he wants, including destroy spacetime itself.

Fortunately, my ancestors and I, the Time Guardians, protect the Oculus and monitor the time stream. Thanks to us, the time stream has flowed perfectly for the last several millenia. Before then, during the Storm, the time stream frequently...well, perhaps it is better if I used the analogy of a body of water. The time stream was not linear; there were many different currents, each affecting the system as a whole. In some areas, whirlpools formed, and time went around in circles repeating itself. In others, the currents converged. And, of course, some currents were faster than others. Approximately 10000 years ago, the first Time Guardian, Theon, created the Oculus to restrict the flow of time. To the regular human being, it looks like a sphere. We who are gifted with Sight, however, can see its true shape; a pipe. A pipe through which travels time itself.

Now, I am the Time Guardian. Theochron. Unfortunately, the Oculus is not in my possession.

It is somewhere out there, somewhere, in some era, due to events that I would rather not elaborate about at this time.

And there are dark ones. Shadows. Wisps. Those who desire its destructive potential. Those who are filled with hate, or ambition, or greed. I can sense it. The Oculus is the ultimate weapon.

It is necessary to retrieve it. I must, or the world will plunge back into the Storm it once was.

But where to turn for help?

...Of course.

She will help me. After all, she has already visited the time stream before.

I believe she also has a friend. Well, perhaps he is more than just a friend, but it makes no difference.

What was his name? Ah, yes. Layton. Professor Hershel Layton.

How is he, I wonder?

* * *

Hershel Layton sat in his office, drinking a cup of Belle Classic. Poring over shoddily written essays, the Professor sighed, clearly in a contemplative mood.

Life had not been the same since Luke left. The Professor originally thought that he would get over the absence of others quickly, but a mere six months of loneliness proved that that was not the case.

The professor's work space had quickly turned into even more of a junkyard than before, if such a thing is possible. Newspapers and notes covered the floor ("Well, I was going to buy him a rug, but it seems that won't be necessary!" Dean Delmona joked), files were arranged haphazardly, and even the depressed professor himself deteriorated into a wreck.

Sometimes, while he was supposed to be grading tests, he thought about how Emmy would read some of the student-written paragraphs, only to burst out in laughter (or tears) at how badly the student failed. (One gem was the following: "The people of Ancient Rome loved beauty in architecture, as evidenced by their construction of the Parthenon.") And of course, one could never deny that she had skill in fighting. That roundhouse kick of hers...even thinking about it hurt.

Other times, he would miss the family he never knew: Bronev, Descole. All three of them were archaelogists. They would definitely have enjoyed their time together, had they lived normal lives. Their fascination for the ancient world was clearly a family trait.

Luke, the little boy-turned-gentleman, was also gone now. The professor's apprentice always showed enthusiasm and energy wherever he went, especially for food. The duo was always top-notch at cracking mysteries. Solving puzzles would never be the same without Apprentice #1.

But most of all, he missed a person who had been dead for many, many years. He had lost her forever, but then she came back.

Only to be dragged away for the second time. Life was indeed very, very cruel.

_Oh Claire...will we ever meet again?_

* * *

Clearly, he is not a happy man. But, whether he be happy or not, I still require his skills. And those of his friends.

I have two missions now. One, finding the Oculus. Two, giving Professor Layton the life a man like him deserves. It is not fair for such a selfless, heroic man to live such a bleak life. I will see what I can do. But first, I must find her.

I reenter the time stream, and find myself in a London alleyway. Thankfully, I can observe events despite not being in my physical form, as I cannot afford to be spotted. This is a delicate matter. I must intercept her as she is traveling through time, but not beforehand. Otherwise, future events will be affected, and time will collapse.

Looking down, I see her.

* * *

_Goodbye, Hershel._

She looks at the saddened professor, tears in his eyes. She, too, wishes to cry.

_But I have to go now._

She turned and walked down an alleyway, feeling herself slipping away. She hears Luke following her, but she can only think about Hershel.

The little time they shared was quite amazing. It was clear he had matured, as had she. However, they still remained much the same as they had been sixteen long years ago. The epic action on the Fortress of Madness, the touching moments while they were still at ground level-it all seemed like a fairy tale.

_Except fairy tales end happily, don't they?_

As it turned out, this one would, too.

* * *

I see her slip out of the time stream. I do not waste the opportunity.

"Claire."

She stops.

"Who are you?"

I pause. Does she know that I am the current Time Guardian? Does she even know what the role of a Time Guardian is?

Should I tell her?

I suppose so. I am asking her to help me, after all.

"Hello. I am the current Time Guardian, Theochron. I require your assistance."

Her shock is clearly visible, her mouth forming a large O.

"You're a Time Guardian?"

"You know what a Time Guardian is?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course! You control...whatever you call th-"

"The time stream."

"Right. The time stream."

"I am pleasantly surprised," I say. "Not many people know what a Time Guardian is, except for dedicated historians and archaelogists."

Claire smiled. "Well, I do have one as my boyfriend. He told me about Time Guardians after I mentioned being a test subject for Dimitri's time machine."

"I see. Well, that saves me from having to explain it, then."

"I always thought you were simply a myth," Claire admitted. "I suppose I've been proven wrong."

"Well, I'm not surprised about that. Many people of your type like dealing with cold, hard facts and gathered information. Not beliefs and alternate planes."

Claire laughed. "Very true. However, why do you need my help?"

* * *

Hershel Layton walked out of his office and got into his car, aka the Laytonmobile. Perhaps Flora already cooked dinner. Perhaps it was actually worth eating this time.

With a shake of his head, he gently pushed the gas pedal and drove down the street, turning left at the intersection.

High above, two pairs of eyes watched the man who would soon play a part in determining the fate of the world.


	2. Chapter 1

**IUG FUOB EQIO GBRIO GNIOBGPQ BG RIHG I GBI PGBP RHGPQRHGN PRIB N IPR IORGNIOPQ GQOPGNEOPQG QOPGOPQE GOPQHO O HQGOH GOQHPHQPH IBPQIIQRUIPQB G G DON'T KNOW WHY THERE ARE SPACES WHEEEEEEEEE**

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**Guest: Thank you so much! I think I forgot to fast-approve your review, so...sorry 'bout that. Hehe.**

**Theochron's (current) outfit is a vest and a white long-sleeved shirt. And dress pants.**

* * *

Chapter One

City Lights

"There's a serious problem, you see."

Claire tilted her head. "What is it, Theo?"

"My name's not Theo, it's Theochr-"

"Please. I don't think having everyone call you 'Theochron' is a good idea. It's such an...unwieldy name."

"But it's still my name. If you don't call me Theochron, you might as well call me something completely different."

"Fine. I'll come up with a name." Claire grinned.

Theochron sighed. "If you insist. Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Are you familiar with the Oculus?"

"No." Claire scratched her head. "But I think I heard Hershel mention it once..."

"Allow me to enlighten you, then. The Oculus is a sphere-well, at least in its physical form-that can control time. It is the only reason time flows linearly. I take it you are familiar with the Storm?"

Claire nodded. "Yes, I am. Most scientists are still baffled as to why time was so jumbled back then."

"So I've gathered. Well, that's simply how time flows on its own. The Oculus was created by the first Time Guardian to create a simpler world. A world without the complications of time abnormalities. Everyone would ride the same time stream. You're staring at the Oculus right now."

Claire blinked, slowly coming to a realization. "Wait...so you're saying...the Oculus is the time stream itself? But that doesn't make any sense!"

"No. The Oculus is what's around the time stream. We Time Guardians are gifted with Sight, letting us see the Oculus, but I can describe it to you. Do you notice how the time stream is in a confined space?"

"Well, yes. That's the Oculus's doing, right?"

"Correct. The Oculus is basically a good quality pipe. Time flows through it, but nothing leaks. It is 100% controlled, and I can control the Oculus."

"So basically, the time stream is safe."

"Unfortunately not. You see, the Oculus in the real world has gone missing...and if the wrong people were to get their hands on it..."

Claire gasped. "Then they could..."

"Rule the world? Yes. Destroy spacetime? Easily. The Oculus is a weapon as well, Claire. You and I both know the intricacy required when dealing with the time stream. That is why I sought your help first."

Claire frowned. "But why me? I'd say Hershel and his apprentice could help you out with your search a lot better. He'd do it. Hershel has a good heart and a good mind."

Theochron sighed. "A good mind, yes, but a clouded one. He hasn't quite been the same ever since you and Luke left."

"How so?" Claire sounded concerned. _What happened to him now?_

"I think it's better if I just show you. Follow me to the present...and remember. No one can see you."

* * *

Claire found herself standing in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. Though after a few seconds, she recognized her location. _Of course. This is where Hershel works._

"Claire?"

Gressenheller University. It looked more somber in the night.

Then she realized a single fact.

_I'm...alive. I'm really alive._

_Back from the dead._

"Ms. Foley?"

"Hm?"

Theochron motioned for Claire to follow him. "Come. The Professor is in his office. Oh, and you might want one of these." He held out what appeared to be an ordinary stethoscope. "These were made by a good friend of mine. They're specialized eavesdropping devices. Hold them up against a door and you can hear anything inside the room, even the faintest sound."

"And remember," he added, "_you__ must not be seen._"_  
_

Silently tiptoeing through the halls of the prestigious college, the duo slipped past the night patrol and arrived at Professor Layton's office. It wasn't too difficult to find-a painted top hat with an L on it gave away the correct door. Even without Theochron's devices, they could hear the sound of pencil meeting paper when they drew near.

"He must be correcting tests. Not a very interesting activity to be eavesdropping upon, is it?" Claire asked.

"On the contrary, it is. I believe he is not scribbling, but writing, judging by the sound. It seems somewhat more deliberate than merely scrawling a comment in the corner of a test. Very odd...I could have sworn his students took an exam yesterday." Theochron quietly chuckled.

"That's not like Hershel," Claire said. "Usually, he prioritizes what's important first. Whatever he's writing must more important than grading papers."

"Perhaps. Important to who, though? Him? Certainly. Others? Doubtful."

Now Claire was curious. "Why would you say that?"

"Hm," said Theochron, "interesting. The sound of crumpling paper. I think he's throwing it away."

Claire, putting her earpiece to the wall, could hear the professor throwing a paper ball into the receptacle under his desk. Then, she heard footsteps. And they seemed to be getting louder and louder...

"What the hell are you doing? Get away from the door!" Theochron whispered. He grabbed Claire's arm and yanked her away just as the door to Professor Layton's office swung open. Out stepped the man himself. Without a word, he turned and walked down the hallway.

"Whew. That was close." Claire let out a sigh of relief. "Wait...Theochron? Where are you?"

The Time Guardian had vanished.

"Where could he have gone? He was here a second ago!"

"I'm back. Come. Quickly."

Claire turned around and saw Theochron, silently shutting the office door.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

"The view's beautiful, isn't it?" Theochron asked. Claire nodded, awestruck by the beauty.

"I don't know how you managed to sneak past security, but...thanks." Claire smiled.

She was standing in a rather unique room. It had paneless windows on all sides, the London cityscape especially striking with colorful lights standing out from the dark sky. The majestic river Thames reflected all of the neon lights, resembling a mosaic of sorts.

And she saw all of this from nearly two hundred feet off the ground.

"Well, I figured scheduling a tour would take forever, so I simply brought you up here myself." Theochron grinned.

"To be honest, I've never actually been inside Big Ben before."

"Not very many people have had the pleasure of coming here at what, 9:00 P.M.? And you get a visit free of charge. You're welcome."

"Thanks." Claire laughed. "Also, I think I've decided on your new name."

Theochron mentally groaned. "Alright...what is it?"

"Tom. And I'm going to get you some new clothes tomorrow. You can't run around London wearing an outfit like that. What, is that Renaissance fashion?"

"You. And clothes shopping. Why do I get the feeling that this is going to take forever and still turn out badly?"

"Hush, you. I _did _buy Hershel his hat, so I have some experience with this sort of thing."

"...Fiiiiiiiiiine. I just don't want to, you know, spend an eternity at the store. It's simply not a productive use of time."

"Alright. I promise I'll try and finish quickly."

"Really?"

"Admittedly, I probably won't."

"Yeah, you probably won't." Theochron, seeing Claire shoot a death glare at him, chuckled.

For a moment, the two simply looked out at the view they would probably never see again in their lives.

"Oh! Is that Hershel's car? That reddish one, the one in traffic. I can't see quite clearly, but I think it is. Not many cars look like that."

"I believe you are correct. The Laytonmobile certainly...stands out. In fact, that reminds me of something." He pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper. "This is what the Professor was writing earlier. I think you ought to have a look."

Claire took the sheet of paper. In familiar looking handwriting was the following:

_They have gone. _

_They have left. _

_Without them, I am incomplete. A fragment. _

_The joys and sorrows, I miss them both._

_My friends and family, I miss them all._

_The apprentice. Forgive me, the apprentice number one._

_When he left, our adventures had only just begun._

_The assistant. Though an enemy, a spy in our midst, _

_Her positives, I must admit, form a much longer list._

_The brother. The father. My family that never was..._

_Is it strange, the heartless acts that life does?_

_And Claire. The angel. The angel that perished._

_The angel that I, above all else, cherished._

_People say that now I seem a lot more solemn._

_But I can still laugh at how far I've fallen._

"That's...that's horrible." Claire was on the verge of tears. Was this the same Hershel Layton she knew? Was she going mad? Was he? "How could he write such a thing?"

"Perhaps now you see what has become of the once great Professor Layton. Whereas his office was once his sanctuary, the place where he could immerse himself in his profession, it is now his prison. He has no one. No one anymore. Even Flora, I think, has noticed. She is going back to St. Mystere as we speak, where she lived before she met the Professor. I arranged for her to go there. It is perhaps for her own safety."

"Now tell me," Theochron said, "do you still love the Professor?"

"I...I..." Claire began to sob.

"Is it so hard to answer such a simple question?"

"I do!" Claire cried. "I could never do otherwise! He's mine! I'm his! I don't care what he's become, he can be some demon from hell for all I care! You could never understand! I-"

"That's quite enough. Good. So you do still care for him. Well, he needs help. His life is in shambles, as you probably know. I intend to restore Hershel Layton to his former life: surrounded by friends, infused with happiness and love. Of course, the 'love' part can only be given to him by one person." Theochron pointedly looked at Claire while he said those words.

"Me."

"Exactly. The problem is, you're supposed to be dead. Especially since you affirmed it yourself during your farewell to the Professor in that alleyway. Thus, you cannot be seen. Once I get the Oculus, I can sever your death from the main time stream. You survived the explosion and were sent to ten years in the future. Everything else can remain the same, and you and Professor Layton can finally live in peace. But you need to help me. Can you do that?"

"Yes." Claire said, her eyes watery. "For him I'll do anything."

* * *

"Right. Here's how we'll divide the room: I take the floor, you take the bed. Simple."

"You're being too generous, you know. You were also the one who paid the hotel manager."

"That's what a gentleman does." Theochron insisted.**  
**

"Alright then."

"I'm going back to Gressenheller tomorrow, you know. I need to have a word with the Professor. I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay here."

Though saddened, Claire nodded.

"Right. Now, let's get some sleep, we're going to need it."

After Theochron turned the lights off, he asked,

"By the way...what was your new name for me again?"

"Tom. It...suits you, I think. You're nearly as old as Hershel, otherwise I would call you Tommy."

_Tom_, he thought, long after Claire had fallen asleep. _There's something I like about that name. Admittedly, it is shorter than Theochron. I could get used to it._

And what was it she said about the Professor?

_"He can be some demon from hell for all I care..."_

"If only she knew," he murmured, before sleep overtook him and he drifted away.

* * *

**Fav, Follow, and Review please! It helps to know that you guys like reading this story, because I really like writing it, too.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Bleep bloop. Finally, the Professor is going to make an appearance. **

**Guest: Thanks! I'm glad you liked the poem :D**

**GoldGriffin: I like your story, and I'm glad you like mine. As for your question about Layton...well...it'll eventually be answered, though not in this chapter. Thanks for reading!**

**So Tom goes to seek the help of the legendary archaelogist / puzzle master. What'll happen nao?**

* * *

Chapter Two

Resurrection

_"Hello, my dear."_

_"Oh! Hello, Hershel." Claire giggled._

_"Well, uh..." Hershel scratched his head nervously. "There's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time..."_

_"Really? What is it?"_

_Hershel pulled out a small box from his pocket. Inside was a ring._

_"Will you marry me?"_

"WAKE UP CLAIRE!"

Claire awoke from her pleasant dream with a startled yell. Seeing Tom standing there with an annoyed look on his face, she screamed back, "DON'T WAKE ME UP LIKE THAT!"

Tom still wore the same deadpan expression. "Then how about you get up earlier? There's breakfast downstairs. I'll go to Gressenheller now. I should be back within...two hours? It depends on how much convincing I need to do."

Claire grumbled something about letting her "get some more sleep."

"...right. I'll be off then."

* * *

Of course, there was no way in hell Claire was going to stay in a room for the entire morning. As much as she loved to lie in a bed for an extended period of time (a really, REALLY extended period of time), she loved eating food more. As such, shortly after Tom left the room, she promptly got dressed and went downstairs. Also, she wanted to visit Gressenheller University herself. Listening in on Tom's conversation with Hershel would be quite interesting. After eating a scrumptious meal consisting of eggs and bacon (and, of course, tea-she was Professor Layton's girlfriend, after all), she strolled outside and saw Tom.

"The buses haven't arrived yet?" Tom muttered, "Hell. Oh, hello, Claire, didn't see you there. Did you have breakfast?"

"Hello. I already ate. I liked the bacon very much."

"Good. So did I."

They sat there in silence, then Tom sighed.

"Claire, why do you want to go to Gressenheller University with me?"

Claire was stunned. "How did you know?"

"Well, you seemed rather downcast yesterday when I said I was going by myself."

"...well, I mean..."

"The Professor's there?"

"Basically."

"That's totally a legitimate reason." Tom laughed. "Alright. You can listen in when I talk to him. Take this." He held out a tiny metallic bud. "It's a radio of sorts. I have a matching one. You'll be able to hear anything the Professor or I say. It goes in your ear, like this. Ah, here's the bus. I have to go now. See you soon."

As the double decker careened down the busy road, Claire went back inside the hotel and walked to her room.

* * *

Tom stepped off the bus. It was only a short walk from there to Gressenheller University-Tom took only two minutes. The place was bustling with students and activity, a stark contrast to how quiet it was in the night.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he asked a student. "Is Professor Layton in his office?"

"No, he's teaching a class right now. Why do you ask?"

"I have personal news for him. Family matters."

"Oh. Well, his break is at 9:30, so you'll be waiting...twenty minutes, give or take."

"I see. Thank you."

As the student continued on her way, a voice came from Tom's earpiece: "You're very skilled at lying, you know. 'Family matters'?"

Tom chuckled. "It's an art."

As the minutes slowly ticked away, Tom found himself wishing he had something to do other than stare at the clock. Luckily, twenty minutes passed relatively quickly, and he soon found himself standing where he and Claire just were the night before. He knocked on the door.

A voice from inside said, "Come in."

Tom opened the door and saw a tall figure with a top hat on his head.

"Good morning, Professor Layton."

"To you as well. Mr...?"

"Tom. Just call me Tom."

"Alright then...Tom. What is it you wish to talk to me about? You're a little old to be a student here."

Tom sighed. _I have to persuade him. It's the only chance. _"Professor Layton, do you know what a Time Guardian is?"

"Indeed I do." Professor Layton was puzzled **(A/N: I'M FUNNY) **by this question. "The Time Guardians use the Oculus to control the time stream."

"Good, that saves me a lot of explaining. You see, I'm the current one. And I need your help."

To say that Professor Layton was surprised would be the understatement of the century. He was downright stunned. A Time Guardian, standing in his office? It seemed surreal.

"You're...you're the Time Guardian?"

"Yes, sir. I am. And I've come to ask you for help."

"Well...sure. What is the matter?"

"The Oculus has gone missing, you see. It has gone to some place in spacetime. I know neither where nor when it will appear. As you, an archaelogist, no doubt understand, recovering the Oculus is of extreme importance. The fate of the world hinges upon who gets it first: us, or...the others."

"I understand. But why ask me for help, of all people?"

"Because you are one of the few people who know a great deal about the Oculus and the Time Guardians. Because you have connections. Highly important connections. I cannot afford mistakes and I know that you and your friends will not let me down."

The Professor mulled over this for a few seconds and replied:

"And what if I do not help you?"

"Then existence, as we know it, ends."

"And supposing I did not care about existence?"

"Hm?" Even though Tom was partly expecting this reaction, he did not expect the Professor to express his thoughts so directly.

"I do not think you understand. I have lost everything. I have lost my apprentice, my assistant, my family...everything. You cannot possibly understand the grief, the pain that I have suffered for these past few months. Even the people I met on my investigations, I am sure, have forgotten me. I have already given up. I do not care about existence, Time Guardian, because I am already dead." The professor's eerily calm demeanor as he said those words would have been highly unnerving to most people. But not Tom.

"You're wrong."

"How so, my boy?"

"You have no idea." Tom stared directly into the Professor's eyes. "I have been watching you these past few months. Watching you turn into the man you are now. I have followed you every step of the way. I understand. But I don't think you understand yourself. Your friends are still out there, Professor. If you will not do this for me, will you do this for them? They care about existence as well. You are not dead, Professor. You are alive, your friends are alive, and they still care about you. If you asked them to help me, they would do it without even knowing who I am beforehand, simply due to their faith in you. You've lost your way; the way has not been taken from you."

"Here." Tom tossed a ball of paper to the Professor. "The poem you wrote yesterday. Such a short, sad poem. I like poems too. Here is mine for you:

_The road is long. The road is not kind._

_To traverse it requires a sound and clear mind._

_It takes one who pushes himself to go far; _

_To go on, no matter how tired you are._

_That used to be you, but you have fallen so._

_From so high above to so down below._

_Some reasons were given, but in fact _au contraire_,_

_There was one real reason: the passing of Claire._

_Since then your life has never been quite the same. _

_Friends come, then leave as fast as they came._

_Now you think of her and lament that she's gone,_

_But I think she'd want you to get up, dust yourself off, _

_And go on._"

Tom turned to face the door. Before he left, he said the following.

"I will come back tomorrow. I hope you have made a decision by then."

He then left, closed the door behind him, and did not turn back once.

* * *

**Next chapter will be more lighthearted: Claire takes Tom clothes shopping! Poor Tom...lol.**

**Review, follow and favorite please! I know almost no one does anyway, but writing this message lets me dream on :D**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Thank you, and I most certainly will.**

**Also, note of warning, this chapter may or may not be terrible.**

**A lighthearted chapter this time! (It's also short.) Claire takes Tom clothes shopping. Needless to say, Tom is very sad.**

* * *

Chapter Three

A Day in Hell

"I'm back, Claire," a voice said from outside the hotel room door.

"I'm aware."

The door opened and Tom stepped inside. "As you no doubt know, the Professor is still deciding whether or not to help me."

"Do you think he'll say yes?"

"I...don't know," Tom admitted.

"It's alright," Claire reassured him. "You tried your best. Though I must say, your style is certainly...direct."

"I like tackling problems directly," Tom said. "I told him I would return tomorrow. That leaves me with a whole afternoon of nothing to do."

Claire smiled. But it wasn't a typical Claire smile. Not a sweet, kind smile. This smile seemed more...sadistic.

"Well," she said, "I guess I'll just have to get you some new clothes."

"No need," Tom hastily replied. "I-these clothes do fine."

"Nonsense. You look so old-fashioned. I'll get you something more suitable. Now, come along, we've got no time."

"No time? We have a whole afternoon!"

"Hush, you. This sort of thing takes a great deal of time and patience. I think we'll get back by six, though."

Tom, knowing there was no way he could possibly win this argument, admitted defeat and let Claire drag him out of the room.

"I just have one request."

"Yes?"

"Can we please only buy one of each article of clothing? I tend to stick to one outfit."

"...You just want to spend less time there."

"That's also true."

Claire laughed. "Deal."

Outside, they took a bus and arrived at the same destination.

Claire called it the mall.

Tom called it Hell.

* * *

"You look pretty good in that!" Claire said.

Tom grumbled, "Fantastic. Can we leave now?"

"Nope! That's just one shirt. You still need pants, an accessory, and that shirt is good, but not great. There's probably something better."

"Okay, okay." Tom sighed. "So how long will this all take?"

"Let's leave. There's nothing else here."

"We're going back to the hotel?" Tom asked hopefully.

"No, silly! Did you think this would be the only place we'd go to? There's more than one clothing store in the world!"

Tom swore.

* * *

After spending an hour looking for the right shirt (and failing to find one), Claire decided to first look for a suitable pair of pants instead.

"No, those make you look fat."

"Claire, I honestly don't-"

"Of course you don't." Claire sighed. "No fashion sense. All men are the same."

Tom sighed. "No common sense. All women are the same."

"Hey!"

"Well, I'm just saying, if you had any, we would be back at the hotel by now."

"Be quiet, will you? I'm trying my best to-oh, this looks pretty good!"

She held up a pair of jeans.

Tom was incredulous. "So we've spent this much time...and in the end we decide on a pair of jeans...?"

"Oh, come on. Jeans are fine!"

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"Quit complaining. We've got to find you a shirt! And a jacket! And a hat!"

"Why a hat...?"

"Because you'd look great with a hat on!"

"Just because the Professor wears one doesn't-"

Claire glared at him.

"...yes ma'am."

"I wasn't going to get you a top hat, you know. I was thinking maybe a cap."

"Sounds delightful ma'am."

"Now, let's go find you a shirt."

"Right away ma'am."

"Could you stop addressing me as 'ma'am'?"

Tom grinned. "No ma'am."

Claire glared at her infuriating companion, silently wishing for him to jump off of a cliff.

* * *

It was some time before the pair found a decent shirt for Tom. Well, one that Claire considered decent, anyway.

"No, this one is too small for you."

"No, this one doesn't go well with your jeans."

"No, this one doesn't really suit you."

"No, I don't like this one."

"No, too colorful."

"No, these buttons are ugly."

Tom, bleary-eyed, bored, and exhausted, put each shirt back and followed Claire to wherever she was going.

Finally, after what felt like hours of searching (and it actually was hours of searching)...

"Amazing! What do you think?"

"Claire...it's a typical white shirt. There's nothing really special about it."

"Perhaps, but you do look quite nice in simple attire."

"...Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Maybe. Hershel's still better looking though."

"I don't doubt that, especially since you're the one saying it."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you have the world's most obvious crush on him, and he has the world's most obvious crush on you. I don't care if you are aspiring young adults, crushes are crushes."

Claire pouted. "Well, I bet you've liked someone before too."

Tom laughed. "Actually no. I spend most of my time performing Time Guardian duties. Pursuing romantic interests only gets in the way. When I die, the role of Time Guardian is passed on to someone else randomly if I don't have a child, so it's not like I need one anyway."

"Hmph. One day, you'll find someone you really love. And you'll marry her. I just know it."

"Do you really?"

Claire hesitated.

"Well, of course, you'd have to spend time with her, and buy her stuff, but yes. I'm sure you'll find that special someone."

"Whatever you say."

* * *

"So what's the last thing we need?" Tom asked as he and Claire walked toward yet another store (their fifth).

"Two things, actually. One, your jacket. Two, your cap."

"Oh. Right."

"By the way..." Claire turned to face him. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue. I like blue."

"Okay. I'll see if they have any blue jackets or caps."

As it turned out, there weren't very many.

"There HAS to be one somewhere!" Claire was frustrated. Of all the colors, why was blue the hardest to find?

"Red, green, yellow, orange, gray, black..." Tom muttered. "I already hate this place."

Luckily, they eventually found a neon blue jacket and cap that fit Tom perfectly.

"You look really good."

"Thanks," Tom replied. "I have to admit, this does look better than my old attire."

"I told you I was good." Claire smiled.

"You are by far my superior in this field."

"Thank you. Of course I am."

* * *

Meanwhile, Professor Layton had to make a decision.

_It's such a simple choice...yes or no?_

_Is it true, what he said? _

_That my friends, that the people I helped still care about me?_

The Professor pondered.

_Well, there's only one way to find out, I suppose._

* * *

**To anyone who's curious, I got the idea for Tom's new look from Red, the Pokemon trainer. They look pretty similar, except Tom's garb is blue.**

**Please review, follow, or favorite this story! As always, they are much appreciated. **


	5. Chapter 4

**I'm back! The Professor makes his decision. **

**GoldGriffin: Thanks! As for your question...I'm not sure if I clarified this in earlier chapters. Claire's not dead. She's alive; Tom sent her back into the real world as she was traveling through the time stream. Everyone can see her. That's why she has to stay out of sight of the Professor, because the Professor "knows" she's dead-creating a paradox. What the Oculus does is it prunes out one of these realities, resolving the paradox. The problem is that the Oculus is missing. Thus, until the Oculus is found, Professor Layton cannot find out that Claire is alive. I hope this explanation helps!**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Yes, shopping is certainly...a good test of patience and character...lol.**

**Enjoy le chapter! Yes, it's really short, but I decided to move, like, half of the content to Chapter 5, as I felt Tom's second encounter with Professor Layton was important enough to deserve its own chapter. Next chapter might/will take a while.**

* * *

Chapter Four

It Begins

_We finally did it._

_It took hard work and lots of time, but we did it._

Such were Tom's thoughts as he, carrying a bag with his new clothes, followed Claire into the hotel.

_I probably would have died of boredom if we'd wasted another second...which was actually a minute...which felt like an hour..._

_But it's all worth it, I suppose. I do like how I look now._

After a quick dinner, Tom and Claire decided to sleep early.

"We've got a long day tomorrow. I need to revisit Professor Layton, and then I'll need to contact the people who know him. Recruit them, in a manner of speaking."

"Even if he doesn't want to help us?"

"Yes," Tom said. "Even if he doesn't, his friends probably will."

Claire still looked unconvinced. "But isn't Hershel the most important person you need?"

Tom nodded. "He is."

"And...you don't know if he'll help you or not?"

"I don't know. We must...hope."

* * *

"CLAIRE, IF YOU DON'T WAKE UP THIS INSTANT, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"IF YOU KEEP WAKING ME UP LIKE THAT, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Not even eight o' clock and they're already screaming at each other.

Lovely way to start the day.

"Look, Tom, all I want to do is sleep right now, okay? I'm not going to Gressenheller with you anyway."

"Well, I'm leaving right now, and I'm pretty sure you want to listen in on the Professor, so you might want to get up within thirty minutes. Your earpiece is on the night stand. Oh, and there's breakfast downstairs."

Claire sat up. "You could have just said that last part earlier..." she grumbled.

Tom laughed. "I thought the cravings only started AFTER-"

"Don't. Even. Finish. That. Sentence."

"...yes ma'am."

"Stop calling me that!"

* * *

Tom hopped off the bus and walked to Gressenheller University.

"Only 8:05," he muttered. "Claire better get up REALLY soon, unless I have to wait twenty minutes again. Oh! there's a student." He walked over. "Excuse me, sir, but is Professor Layton in his office? I need to speak to him."

"I'm sorry. He isn't. Maybe he'll be back in about...twenty minutes? Check if he's available then."

Tom swore under his breath. "Thank you. I'll wait."

"No problem, sir." The student continued walking.

After he was out of earshot, Tom prepared himself for yet another twenty minute period of boredom. Luckily, since he'd already had a six hour one the day before, twenty minutes felt like no time at all.

Meanwhile, the Professor was finishing up his archaeology class.

"In conclusion, the Azran civilization was extremely technologically advanced for its time. Next week, I will bring an Azran artifact for all of you to see. That will be all."

With those words, the Professor's lecture ended, and he hurried out of the room, eager for a cup of tea.

Carefully avoiding the gaze of a certain student named Rosetta, he opened the door to his office...

And saw Tom sitting at his desk.

"Welcome, Professor. We have much to discuss."

* * *

"I brewed tea for you. I figured you'd need it."

"You figured correctly. Thank you." Professor Layton took a sip and grimaced. _Well, I suppose it's better than Flora's cooking..._

Tom, noticing the Professor's uncomfortable expression, chuckled. "Tastes decent, doesn't it?"

"Well, it certainly is...stimulating."

"Always the gentleman, Professor. I'm sure what you mean to say is that it tastes horrible." Tom sighed. "I'm not very good at brewing tea, I must admit."

"I'm quite sure that lamenting over your lack of tea-brewing skills is not the principal reason you are here."

You are correct, Professor. I'm simply here to ask you what you've decided. You know, about helping me."

The Professor put down his teacup. "First off, I will say this: it was not an easy decision. Not at all. Part of me wondered why I should even bother helping you. After all, I don't see how doing so will help me in the slightest. I have nothing to live for, after all. But then I was curious. Why would you seek my help, if you knew full well there was a good chance I would refuse to give it? There must be a good reason. And you also mentioned my friends...do they still remember me? I don't know. But if I don't join you, I doubt I will ever be motivated to find out."

"Thus, I will offer my assistance, Time Guardian, and I will allow you to use my name to gain the trust of people who know me."

Tom grinned. "Very shrewd, Professor Layton. Thank you. I will use your name to gain allies. In the meantime, I suggest you behave normally, so as not to draw suspicion."

"I shall. By the way, may I ask why you are wearing such...drastically different attire?"

Tom paused. "My old outfit was rather worn, so I decided to purchase some new clothes." He heard a voice laugh in his ear and sighed. "Goodbye, Professor."

"The same to you."

As Tom left Gressenheller University, he muttered, "Alright. First stop, Misthallery."

* * *

**Next chapter, Tom convinces people to join the cause. Yes, he even reaches Luke, even though he leaves for a different country at the end of Unwound/Lost Future. How? Find out in Chapter Five!**

**Review, Favorite, and/or Follow please!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Bok Choy I liek**

**GoldGriffin: I'm glad you understand :D and thanks for the praise.**

**Many key characters will be making their appearance here. How many of them will Tom convince to join his side?**

**Oh, and I finished Professor Layton and the Last Specter! Hooray! *happy dance* But some puzzles were really a pain. A legitimate pain. **

**Hardest Puzzles to Solve:**

**The three stupidly difficult sliders (Puzzle 159 Bomb Squad was relatively easy) from Layton's Challenges top the list.**

**Puzzle 164 Jewel Swap - Sure, it's a typical slider puzzle, except you have practically no space to work with, and every single block must end up in a precise location, not just a few of them. Much harder than it looks!**

**Puzzle 166 Sliding Pipes - I'm not sure what was so difficult about this one, but it was soooooooo frustrating...eventually got it though!**

**Puzzle 170 The Greatest Escape - Most Professor Layton games finish with a really difficult sliding puzzle. This one differs in that there are two parts. Two super difficult sliders in one! Isn't that great? (It's not. Trust me.)**

**Hardest Puzzles to Find: **

**Puzzle 154 Wire To Wire - It took me over twenty minutes to find this one. I'm not telling you its precise location (that would make it too easy!), but know that it's somewhere you've probably only been once, unless you just like to wander places. The puzzle itself is a piece of cake.**

**It turns out that I'll be dedicating a lot of chapters to Tom's solo travels. This chapter will focus on Misthallery.**

* * *

Chapter Five

Fides

"Is there a bus that goes directly to Misthallery?" Tom muttered. "Guess not. I'll take a taxi."

"Do you have money?" a voice asked from his earpiece.

"I have enough, I think. By the way, Claire, I probably won't make it back to the hotel tonight. I'm planning to go to Misthallery, and then I need to track down one of the Professor's former assistants. If I manage that I'll need to contact Scotland Yard. Talk to some prisoners. Hopefully I'll return tomorrow. Probably not."

"Alright. Does that mean I'll get to wake up late for a change?"

"Technically, I suppose. Once the search begins I doubt we'll get very much sleep anyway. Sure, go ahead."

"Hooray!" Claire yelled.

"Augh! Bloody hell! My ear! Don't be so loud!"

That was when Tom became aware of everyone around him staring at him as if he were insane.

"What's the problem?"

One timid man asked, "Um...who were you talking to...?"

"Ah, yes. I suffer from what the doctors call 'split personality disorder.' Quite aggravating, isn't it? Quite. I'm sorry. Disturbances like this tend to happen. Apologies."

"Oh. Well, it's alright, it just seemed a little weird, that's all."

"Thank you for being so understanding." _Whew. Close save._

"You are a professional liar," Claire said (in a much quieter voice).

"Lying is an extraordinarily useful tool. One which will end up saving your life many, many times."

"Really?"

"You have no idea."

* * *

"So this is Misthallery," Tom mused, as he stepped out of the taxi. "I know a thing or two about the locals here, thanks to the Professor. Hopefully, I'll gain their trust this way."

As he walked across the bridge to town, he noticed banners flying in the air and a multitude of tents and stalls.

"Is there a a cause for celebration?" he asked a local.

"Don't you know? ...oh, yeah, you probably don't. You don't look like you come from here. Why are you here, anyway?"

"I'm visiting a friend."

"Oh. Well, you see, our old mayor, Clark Triton, he's come back. He moved to the US some months ago, but he's decided to move back here to Misthallery. So we're celebrating his return."

"Ah. Thank you, Miss...?"

"Mimi. Call me Mimi." The woman smiled. "And you are?"

"Tom."

"Well, Tom, why don't you join us in our festivities later? The party is sure to be quite amazing."

"That will be wonderful. Thank you."

As Mimi left, he whispered to Claire, "Actually, I think I'll be lucky if I return within three days."

* * *

Tom decided that he would meet with the Black Ravens first. Originally, he had decided on passing off as Professor Layton's friend, but something told him that his plan would not work. The Black Ravens were a clever lot; simply mentioning the Professor would not gain their support. No, he needed to earn their trust the right way. The same way the Professor himself did.

To the market he went.

"These bridges are sturdier than they look," Tom murmured, as he walked across one of Misthallery's famously rickety rope bridges.

The Misthallery market was, to Tom, quite an interesting place. Even while on the bridge, he could hear the shrill voice of an elderly woman:

"I only sell my candy to CHILDREN! No exceptions! Not ungrateful adults! Begone!"

_Ungrateful adult? Is she looking in a mirror? _Tom snickered at his joke.

Avoiding eye contact with the candy seller, he strolled right into the main marketplace.

_I guess even the Black Ravens are preparing for the celebration. The kids seem to just be hanging around and not doing much._

"Hey, sir!" Tom turned to see a girl with a headband of sorts. "Would you like some fresh fruits and vegetables?"

"Ah. Yes, I'd like some tomatoes, please." One principle Tom learned was that people tended to open up more to him when he seemed to be genuinely interested in what they were buying or selling. "I was also wondering where the black market was."

The produce seller stated that she did not know.

Instead of venturing into the central part of the market to ask more people, Tom continued to stand at the produce...stand.

Eventually, the girl asked, "Why are you still here?"

"I'm waiting for you to tell me where the black market is."

"I already told you, I don't know!"

"Tsk. I'm expert at reading body language. When I asked you about its location a few minutes ago, you visibly tensed. There is something you are not telling me, and I would like to know what it is. By the way, miss, what is your name?"

"Marilyn. And as for the location of the black market...I suppose you should ask Tweeds. He's over there somewhere."

Tom briefly considered requesting more information, but decided against it. "Thank you."

"No problem sir. Do you still want some tomatoes?"

Tom gave her a few coins. "I'm fine. Take this for your trouble. Perhaps I'll buy some later."

As Tom walked towards the center of the market, a boy with messy hair looked down at him from the rooftops, ready to don his disguise and spring into action at any moment.

* * *

"Hello. I presume you are Tweeds."

A somewhat chubby child looked up and saw an unfamiliar looking blue-jacketed man looking directly at him.

"Uh...yes, sir. I'm Tweeds. What do you want?"

"I'd like to know where the black market is."

Tweeds was far less practiced at controlling himself compared to Marilyn. "I-I don't know anything about the black market!"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Really now?"

Tweeds sighed. "Alright. I guess it can't hurt to tell you. Apparently this guy called the Black Raven runs the black market. He wears this creepy outfit, and he sells these really valuable objects. It seems pretty cool, if you ask me! Oh, I think that's my mom calling me, gotta go!"

And with that, Tweeds walked westward, into a shoddy, run down section of town.

_Not to be offensive, but Tweeds is terrible at lying. Absolutely terrible._

_Oh well. I suppose it can't hurt to play along for just a little while longer. I'm sure the Black Raven will appear any time now._

Sure enough, within five minutes, Tom heard a shrill cackle from above him. Looking up, he saw what appeared to be a part-human, part-raven figure.

The Black Raven jumped down and zipped through Market East, Tom following behind him. As the Raven entered a shop, Tom heard another laugh. Running through an alley was the same ominous figure.

Instead of chasing, however, Tom entered the shop. He saw a boy taking off the Black Raven costume.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything. Could I please see your leader? It's quite urgent."

* * *

"So what is it you want to talk to us about? You've scared the hell out of Badger already, so I hope it's important." Crow gestured to the quivering boy who escorted Tom to the black market.

"Yeah!" shouted Wren. "That was rude, y'know!"

Nabby continued to grumble about his back pain, arm pain, ear pain, everything pain.

"My apologies. It seems Badger is very shy."

"Yes, he is. Tell me, what do you want from us?"

"I know my story will sound quite fictional at first, but believe me when I say that it is true," Tom began. _Here goes..._

For the next thirty minutes, Tom explained three things. One, that he was the Time Guardian. Two, that there existed a device, the Oculus, which had the ability to control time. Three, that the Oculus was missing.

"So, simply put, I need your help ensuring that we find it before more...corrupt beings do. I'll give you all some time to consider. Inform me of your decision during the celebration later."

Tom then left.

There was a moment of silence, then Socket asked, "So...do we trust him?"

"Nah!" said Marilyn. "That story of his is like a fairy tale! There's no way it's true!"

"I don't know," replied Louis. "I think he looks like a trustworthy person. Besides, you're just mad he made you give him information that easily."

"Hey! At least I did better than Tweeds!"

"What did I do now?"

"You outright failed at protecting the black market!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Shut up!" Crow yelled.

The entire room instantly became so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

"I say we help this guy."

"What! Why?" questioned Wren.

"Because there's no way he came all this way just to tell us a completely idiotic story if there wasn't at least something true about it. Also, he's not a fool. He saw right through Marilyn and our Black Raven ruse. He's clever, and he's slick. As Louis said, he seems trustworthy. And if his story is actually completely true, then it is our duty, as people, to save the world." Crow pointed to Scraps. "Scraps, you will be our informant. During the celebration, tell him that we'll help him. Other than that, let's all enjoy the party."

* * *

Tom decided to visit Barde Manor next. He had heard much about Arianna and Tony, the siblings who had suffered so much turmoil in the past. One particular fact intrigued him.

"She originally had a terminal illness?" Tom mused. "I wonder...perhaps it is..."

The path to the mansion was no longer overgrown, thanks to there being an actual gardener on the grounds (instead of Seamus). The moss and ferns had been removed, giving a much better appearance to the estate.

"Hm. Impressive." He knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

_Well, I bet I know just where they are..._

He headed west and walked down into an ancient tunnel. Arriving at the Golden Garden, he saw three children, apparently delighting in exchanging stories.

Wait.

THREE children?

As Tom got close enough to ascertain the identity of the third person, he almost laughed. _Of course. He would come here first, wouldn't he?_

Unlike with the Black Ravens, Tom felt that using the Professor's name would be the easiest way to get the trio to trust him. After all, Professor Layton had greatly impacted all of their lives in some way.

To Arianna, Professor Layton was a godsend. He gave her a chance to start anew, one she did not waste. She had gone from being known as the "calamity witch" to constantly playing with the other kids in town.

Thus, Tony also respected Professor Layton. The man had understood the terrible pain felt by the two siblings...and removed it entirely. Thanks to the Professor, they now lived a happy, tranquil life.

As for the third member of the party...

"Once, we had to serve tea to these random people in some wacky town, and it turns out we were all just dreaming!" Luke said.

"Really?" inquired Arianna. "So it seems the Professor's had more adventures since he left Misthallery."

"Yes, indeed he has."

The startled children turned their heads and saw a man wearing a blue jacket and cap walking toward them.

"Wh-who are you? And what are you doing here?" Luke stuttered.

"I am an...acquaintance of the Professor's. My name is Tom. I come because the world is in grave danger, and I need your help to save it." Tom proceeded to describe the situation.

"So," Luke asked at the end of Tom's explanation, "is the Professor part of this?"

"Yes."

"Well then, count me in!"

Tom smiled. "Layton's apprentice strikes again?"

"Well, er...yeah!"

"Tony and I will help as well," said Arianna. "The world is a beautiful place. I will work to preserve it."

"That's very noble of you."

"Hey, Tom!" Luke called. "Do you want to play tag with us?"

"Actually, I-"

"Come on, sir!" Arianna giggled. "It'll be fun!"

"Yeah!" said Tony.

Tom sighed, then grinned. _I suppose everything else will have to wait._

* * *

The celebration was, as Mimi promised, amazing. The Triton family became well respected after Luke's involvement in the affair of the specter became known, and the townspeople were all quite glad that they had returned. Even Greppe, the current mayor, shook Clark's hand, to the delight/relief of many.

As Tom observed the festivities, he heard someone walk up to him.

"Crow says we'll work with you."

"Thank you. Tell Crow that I will send him a letter within a few weeks giving further information. He should also have Luke, Arianna, and Tony read it, as they are allies as well. Other than them, trust no one."

"Aye."

Tom then quickly left Misthallery. His work there was done.

"Where to next?" asked Claire.

"...I think I'll pay a visit to Scotland Yard."

* * *

**Chapter Six: Tom visits prison. What help could he possibly find there?**

**So, yes, Clershel will be a pairing. However! Not until the very end will they meet. I have already paired up the main characters, and I have decided that Luke and Arianna are a couple. (I don't ship Luke/Flora.)**

**And for anyone who's curious, the chapter name is Latin for "trust."**

**Please follow, favorite, or review! Anything is helpful! I like to think that my "talents" are being appreciated to some extent.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Misthallery seems like a nice place, so I wanted Tom to explore it. At first, he refused, saying he had more important things to do. He gave in after I threatened to delete him from the story via a gruesome death. Also, I said, the readers would enjoy it. Tom cares about you guys, you know. What? I'm totally not insane.**

**GoldGriffin: Clershel OTP! :D I never really liked Emmy/Layton. And hell no Luke/Layton. Like...seriously. That's just creepy. Legal Luke/Layton doesn't make it better either!**

**And yes, HM Prison Belmarsh is a real place. **

* * *

Chapter Six

The First Rule of Life

"Good afternoon, Professor. I just returned from Misthallery. Found some friends of yours."

The Professor ignored Tom's statement. "So why have you returned to my office? You were already here this morning."

"I need you to have Scotland Yard grant me access to HM Prison Belmarsh."

Professor Layton's eyes widened. "You do realize that people consider it the most dangerous prison in Britain?"

"I'm aware of that. But there are people there that I need. That I know are good at heart. That you know are good at heart."

"I think I know who you're talking about." Professor Layton closed his eyes and sighed. "Very well. I will inform Inspectors Chelmey and Grosky of your request, though I cannot guarantee that they'll let you in."

"Thank you, Professor. By the way, Luke's moved back to Misthallery. You might want to visit him sometime."

Before the Professor could reply, Tom walked out of the office.

* * *

Luckily, the Professor's reputation was quite enough to convince the police to let Tom in, though they did at first try to dissuade him from entering.

"It's not safe. These are some of the worst prisoners in the entire country. Are you sure you want to talk to any of them?" Inspector Chelmey asked.

"Yes. I am very sure."

"Well, suit yourself. Why do you want to, anyway?"

"Want to what?"

"Talk to them."

"Hasn't the Professor already explained everything?"_  
_

"Yes, he has, but I don't understand why you're visiting this hellhole to find allies. I'm certainly not assisting you in getting them out of this place, though if you manage to, I won't send people after you."

"Thank you."

"So, which prisoner do you want to meet first?"

"Leon Bronev."

Inspector Chelmey led Tom down a hallway and into a room divided by a glass pane.

"He'll be here shortly."

* * *

Chelmey soon returned with the requested inmate. A single glance at the man on the other side of the barrier told Tom that this man had probably been through a lot in his life, more so than many other people. This was a man who had clearly seen both shining light and dark despair.

"I'll leave you two be, then." The inspector left the room.

At first, neither Tom nor Bronev spoke. It was Tom who broke the silence:

"Hello, Leon Bronev."

The man twitched. "How do you know my name?"

"Simple. I met with Theodore Bronev-or, should I say, Hershel Layton."

"Heh." The man smiled wistfully. "I could have been his father. I was...twisted. Twisted by my single-minded pursuit of an Azran Legacy which turned out to be a complete lie!" He trembled as he said those words. It was clear mentioning the Professor triggered a sensitive nerve.

"You are his father. You are a good man."

"How could I ever call myself his father? He himself said he could never consider me as family. I am a terrible role model, an ambitious man with no regard for others. Theodore Bronev no longer exists. He is a shadow. In his place is Hershel Layton, a man Theodore could never have surpassed had he remained under my care."

"That's where you're wrong," Tom interjected emphatically. "You are a great role model, Bronev. You have cunning. You have passion. You are willing to sacrifice everything for what you believe is right. And...you know how to feel guilt. Though you did commit horrible deeds to unlock the Azran Legacy, you recognized the error of your ways and sacrificed yourself to save the world. Now, I need your help to save it again."

Tom, for the third time that day, explained what the Oculus was, what a Time Guardian was, and what the problem was.

"Your son knows about this. He has agreed to help me. Though he is in a bit of a, well, negative mental state..."

"I know," interrupted Bronev.

Tom was surprised. "How so?"

"Let's just say a certain...informant tells me about what's going on in the outside world."

_Of course. _"Let me guess, Emmeline Altava?"

"Yes. She prefers to be called Emmy now, ever since Targent was disbanded. Her name in the organization was Emmeline."

"I see. Do you know where she lives now?"

"I believe she has taken up residence at...St. Mystere? I'm not sure of the exact address."

If Tom was surprised, he most certainly did not show it. "Thank you. Perhaps I'll seek her help as well."

"That would be wise. Emmy is certainly a capable young woman. I am quite glad she has found a life outside of working for Targent."

"Yes, her fighting skills are certainly effective. Well, that's all. Thank you, Mr. Bronev."

"I should be the one thanking you, Mr...?

"The name's Tom."

"Alright. Thank you, Tom."

* * *

"I bet I know the other person you came to see. I'll fetch him for you."

"Thank you, Inspector Chelmey."

Soon, Chelmey returned with a sullen looking young man, dressed in the usual prison outfit.

"He's all yours, sir."

"Thank you."

Once Chelmey left the room, the man asked, "Who are you? And what do you want?"

"My name is Tom. Hello, Clive."

"Am I really that infamous?" Clive sighed. "Everyone remembers me as a monster. A terrorist. And they're right. I tried to destroy London to satisfy my lust for revenge. I was a truly lost person. I suppose I still am."

"Well, whether you remain one is up to you."

"I suppose."

"Clive, I have come to you because I need your help."

Clive laughed bitterly. "What could you possibly want from me?"

Tom told Clive of the crisis he was facing. "Your skills in deception and construction will be invaluable. Besides, don't you wish to atone for your crimes? Is saving the world not the best way to do it? The Professor and the others are part of this as well. In fact, the Professor convinced the authorities to let me speak to you."

For a full minute, Clive was silent. Then, he began to speak. "I just have one request."

"Yes?"

"Don't let the Professor know I'm helping you." Clive's voice cracked. "I-I can't face him. And them. Not after what I've done..."

"I think the Professor will understand."

"How can he? How do you justify the attempted destruction of an entire city?"

"You don't." Clive stared. "What you did was terrible, Clive. There's no denying that. But you are willing to make up for what you have done. That, in itself, is quite admirable. Not every person lost their parents while they were only a child. Not everyone who did dealt with it successfully. You did, and more. You gave yourself a goal. Perhaps not a good goal, but the fact is, what you did required strength. It took mental tenacity. Now, imagine that mind of yours being put to good use, as a positive force. You are a genius, Clive. You are not a monster, simply a boy who has been lost for over ten years. But you are still stuck in the past. You are still scarred by the explosion, haunted by your crimes. The only advice I can give you is this."

"Sometimes, learning from the past enhances your future, but sometimes it is best to let the past burn."

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Tom meets Emmy and Flora in St. Mystere.**

**Fav, Follow, and Review please!**

**:D**

**Bok Choi**


	8. Chapter 7

**HIMULUMAHUMAGUH!**

**Shimmering-Sky: Thank you! And yes, Layton/Emmy isn't really such a great pairing. Clershel 5ever!**

**GoldGriffin: Funnily enough, I originally hadn't intended for Bronev to even appear in this story. I completely forgot that he was a character, lol. Then, while I was thinking of how to have Tom meet Emmy, I was like, wait...Emmy worked for some organization, right? Then I read the plot of Azran Legacy and then I knew I had to include Bronev. His story is way too good.**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Yeah, Tom's personality is based off of me. Sometimes I get serious but other times I tend to just have fun. Mostly the latter.**

**Oh, and I have a poll on my profile. Which Professor Layton game's theme is your favorite? I have two: Diabolical Box and Last Specter. Most people seem to underappreciate these two, especially Diabolical Box; I have no idea why. They're really good!**

**Well, I think I'm rambling again. Enjoy Chapter Seven! There may or may not be some fourth wall breaking. Yes, this chapter is supposed to be blatantly stupid. A welcome break from the intensity of Chapter Six.**

* * *

Chapter Seven

Puzzling Indeed

Having spent the night at another hotel, Tom reached his destination quite early in the morning.

"St. Mystere. A curious little village, if I say so myself."

Such were Tom's first impressions of Flora's home. Though he told Flora to move back after the Professor became clearly depressed, he himself had never visited the town until now.

"But first, where does she live?"

Just then, a large sign dropped out of nowhere reading:

**PUZZLE 001**

**Find the House**

"You've got to be kidding me."

* * *

"I live in the tallest building in St. Mystere. I can see birds from up here! And planes! And clouds! And the sky!"

This is Flora's description of her house. Where does she live?

* * *

"Uh...probably that huge tower over there?"

Another sign fell from the sky. This one said:

**CORRECT**

**10 Picarats**

Ten tiny silver pieces magically appeared in Tom's pocket.

"The hell are these?"

A baffled Tom eventually decided it was best not to question the system for now.

* * *

After some wandering around, Tom found Reinhold Manor. He found it quite impressive at first, until...

"What's the point of a river, if there's no boat here?"

**PUZZLE 002**

**Building the Boat**

Tom swore.

* * *

You arrive at Reinhold Manor, but can't cross the river without a boat. Sadly, Ramon has taken the only one available in order to go fishing. Using the wood pieces below and no tools whatsoever, cross the river safely.

* * *

"Bloody hell! I'll swim!"

**INCORRECT**

**16/20 Picarats**

"Alright! You win! I'll build the stupid boat!"

* * *

After ten minutes of exhausting effort, Tom managed to construct the boat. It was only after he got to the other side that he realized...

"Flora doesn't live here."

He turned around and saw that his boat has completely vanished.

"What the hell?"

**PUZZLE 003**

**Building the Boat 2**

"FU-"

* * *

Your wooden raft has been washed away by the powerful river current! You must build another boat using the flower petals found here.

Are you up to the task?

* * *

"NO! I'M NOT! NOW LET ME CROSS!"

Tom was answered with complete silence, save for a bird who simply glided across the river.

"Damn you InstaGimp."

* * *

"Alright, so the tower's that way...guess I'll have to go through the clock tower first."

As he approached the clock tower...

**PUZZLE 004**

**What's the Time?**

"THERE'S A CLOCK RIGHT THERE! THAT'S THE TIME FOR YOU!"

**CORRECT**

**15/15 Picarats**

"..."

Tom managed to reach Flora's house at the top of the tower without running into another falling sign. _Finally, safety._

"Hello, Flora."

"Oh! Tom! Hi. How are you?"

"I'm fine...but those stupid falling puzzles are seriously ticking me off."

Flora giggled. "Oh come on, they're not too bad! Well, I think Bruno's been making them more difficult, but still..."

"Are you kidding!? I had to build an entire boat out of the flowers in front of the Reinhold Manor! Not fun! Not at all!"

"Oh hush, you. Here, have some tea. I did as you asked, by the way."

"Good. I take it Bruno wishes to help us?"

"Yes. He does. He's a very dependable person."

"It certainly seems that way. So when will she arrive?"

"I would say within, oh, I don't know, twenty minutes. She seems pretty smart. I'm not sure she'd believe your story about the Oculus and everything."

"That'll be no problem. Thank you, Flora. By the way..." Tom smirked. "Cooked anything edible lately?"

"Shut up!"

* * *

Emmy Altava took one look at the looming structure before her and decided that she would probably never visit it again unless there was a very, very good reason.

_Oh well. This "Flora Reinhold" person seems to know me quite well. I wonder why._

But, of course, as is customary of the Professor Layton universe...

**PUZZLE 005**

**Climbing the Tower**

* * *

This rickety tower has a number of false steps. Stand on one and you'll fall into a pit with crocodiles! Don't die!

* * *

"Well, these puzzles are a lot more...morbid than I remembered," Emmy noted. "Should be a piece of cake for me, though."

By the time Emmy reached the top of the tower, she was quite determined to never, ever return.

"Oh, hello, Emmy Altava!" a little girl said. "I'm Flora! Nice to meet you!"

"Hello, Flora. What did you want me here for?"

Flora beckoned Emmy to follow her. "You'll see."

* * *

"So you see, Emmy, we need someone of your skills if we are to prevent the Oculus from falling into the wrong hands," Tom finished.

Emmy took another sip of Flora's tea and asked, "You said you've met Bronev?"

"Yes, I have."

Emmy sighed. "He really was a good man, you know. Just obsessed."

"I know he was. He's agreed to help me."

"How on earth is he going to help you from inside a high-security prison?"

"He's not." Tom grinned. "He's going to help us from outside it."

Emmy realized what Tom was implying and also grinned. "Alright. Who else'll help you break him out?"

"I think I'll bring the Professor. And maybe...one other. If he wants to. I haven't met with him yet."

"Who?"

"You'll see."

"Okay." Emmy stood up. "Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you, Tom."

"Likewise. I look forward to your cooperation."

"As do I. Goodbye for now, Tom."

"Goodbye, Miss Altava."

* * *

Tom spent most of the day conversing with Flora and exploring St. Mystere. Late in the afternoon, he prepared to leave. As he walked past the inn, he saw that the drawbridge was raised.

"Excuse me, sir? Could you lower the-" He stopped. There was no one operating the crank. Wait...where was the crank? There was only a row of buttons and a switch-

**PUZZLE 006**

**Lowering the Drawbridge**

Tom swore again.

* * *

**Just a few more people to visit! Who are they? Well, you'll just have to find out. **

**Please favorite, follow, and review! :D**


	9. Chapter 8

**Gloop.**

**Back to the more serious stuff! You guys might be surprised.**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: I haven't ever raged at a puzzle! *awkward pause* Well, maybe once. Maybe more times. I don't know XD**

**GoldGriffin: It's actually not too obvious. The first time I mentioned that Tom knew Flora was waaaaay back in Chapter One, right after Tom shows Claire the poem. The second was at the very beginning of Chapter Seven. Only a really sharp eye would have caught either, I think. I'm glad you enjoyed the humor!**

**Shimmering-Sky: It seems that you were trying a bit hard XD and since I didn't bet anything, you didn't win anything! MUAHAHAHAHAH**

**Oh, and one question for you guys. I haven't decided what I wanted to write for next chapter. I have two options. One, I can continue with Tom's travels and send him to Monte D'Or. Two, I can insert a chapter in which the Professor visits Misthallery again. Which do you want? Let me know in a PM or review!**

**Enjoy Chapter Eight! This one was pretty hard to write for me.**

* * *

Chapter Eight

Hershel

It was almost 8:30 in the evening when Tom arrived at a large manor. Its exterior looked quite dark and somber, and the gate was beyond repair. The estate as a whole seemed to be in poor condition, with weeds and moss growing everywhere.

But Tom knew better. Within the mansion lived a genius. An enigmatic genius who once used the pretense of evil to protect.

_A fascinating man, I must say. _

He walked along the overgrown path and knocked on the oaken door, listening to the reverberation of the wood.

An old looking butler opened the door and noticed Tom standing there.

"Good evening, sir. The master said to expect you. Please, come this way." The servant led Tom down a hallway to another door. "The master is in here."

Upon entering, Tom found himself in an old-fashioned parlor of sorts. There was a fireplace at the far side of the room, a red carpet on the floor, and a large table surrounded by couches in the middle of the room. A man in an armchair with his back turned was reading a book.

"Hello, Time Guardian. Please, take a seat. I received your letter. You said you wished to see me?"

Tom chose a seat directly in front of the estate's owner. "Indeed I do, Hershel Bronev."

The man scowled. "Do not call me that!"

"If you so wish...Descole."

"Enough of these games," Descole demanded. "What do you want?"

"Your assistance, of course."

"And what would a Time Guardian such as yourself need from me? I'm sure there are less hate-driven and more righteous people in the world. Such as my brother."

"You seem to underestimate yourself, Descole. You have your own share of strengths." Tom counted them off on his fingers. "One, you have cunning. I would say more than your brother. Two, you are a master of disguise. Pairing that with your cleverness makes you unrivaled in deception...a strength that you must agree your brother lacks."

Descole grudgingly admitted that Tom was correct.

"Three, your technical skill. Your mastery of machines is incredible for a man of science and archaeology. Four, you know how to pull the strings. Though your methods may be considered immoral, they are certainly effective. Your manipulation of Clark was most efficient. And finally, you, like the others I've met, are extremely mentally strong. You overcame your troubled childhood without having to repress your memories like Professor Layton did. You, in fact, continued to protect him while pretending to be his enemy-which I am sure was not at all easy for you."

"That is quite true." Descole put down his book. "But it was the only way to prevent him from being dragged into my conflict with my father and his damned organization. I never wanted to really harm him in any way; but sometimes I deemed it necessary if I was going to get my revenge. Looking back, I feel almost sickened. Trying to kill my own brother! It seems monstrous."

"Perhaps. But it was understandable, at least from my perspective. You tried to help your brother. There is nothing wrong with that. I might have done the same in your position...though perhaps I would have taken less extreme measures. Sometimes the ends justify the means, at least temporarily."

"I suppose. But back to the main topic. What is the problem?"

"I take it you are familiar with the Oculus and its purpose?"

"Yes, I am. In fact, when your letter stated that you were a Time Guardian, I began to wonder whether your 'dilemma' had something to do with it."

"Your intuition is spot on," Tom said. "However, the problem is not with the Oculus itself, but rather with its location-because no one knows where it is. It will probably appear some time in the future, but I have no idea where or for how long."

Descole stared. "The Oculus is missing? That could potentially have-"

"Universe-threatening consequences? Yes." Tom sighed. "Yes it could."

"And I assume you came because you need me to help retrieve it?"

"Once again, you are correct."

Descole contemplated what he had just heard. "Very well. I will assist you in recovering it. I take it my brother has also been notified of this?"

"Indeed he has."

"Not surprising. He must have been the first person you sought."

"Actually-" Tom stopped. _Best not to tell him about Claire for now. _"Yes, he was."

"Hmph." Descole smirked. "Who could resist requesting the help of the great Hershel Layton?"

"Are you...jealous of him?"

Descole laughed coldly. "You'd be surprised how many people are. The man is practically a saint! The media is practically in love with him and his exploits! His adventures! It only makes it worse that he's my own brother, that his life could just as easily have been mine if I didn't let Hershel get adopted in my place!"

"Fallen angel," Tom murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Descole ended his ranting. "So, what will you do first?"

"Infiltrate HM Prison Belmarsh."

"What!" Descole shouted. "Are you mad!?"

"I'm sorry if there are two people I need there. One's your father."

The silence that followed was absolute. One could hear a pin drop. Then Descole growled, "My father...that traitor..."

"He was kidnapped. He didn't join Targent willingly."

"So!?" Descole was livid. "He didn't care about either of his sons! He forsook both of us to research the Azran Legacy! He cared more about a civilization from millenia ago than he did about his own flesh and blood! And what the hell did he get out of it?" Descole's hand was shaking violently at this point. "The Azran Legacy was world destruction! Decades of his research! All wasted! Decades that he could have spent with us! With his sons! We could have been an actual family! He left us and what did he accomplish? Nothing!"

"He feels remorse now, you know. That is as good of a first step as any."

"One step in the right direction does not compensate for a million in the other!"

"No, it doesn't. The same, however, could be said for you."

"How?"

"You had good intentions, but ended up hurting so many innocent people. The inhabitants of Misthallery still remember you. So does Randall in Monte D'Or. But they've forgiven you, Descole. The Professor told them about your story. Forgive and forget, Descole, and look upon your father not as an ambitious criminal, but as a passionate do-gooder. Remember, he wanted to use the Azran Legacy for good purposes, he just had no idea what it was. None of you did."

Descole had calmed down by now. "So be it. Who is the other prisoner you seek to free? You mentioned two."

"Clive Dove."

"The one who tried to destroy London?"

Descole put on a pensive expression. "He reminds me of me. A person who was probably once good at heart, but twisted by his goals and dreams. And...the loss of loved ones." Tom realized Descole was referring to his wife and daughter.

It then occurred to Tom that loneliness must be the worst disease in the world, turning great minds such as the Bronev brothers into husks.

"There is one other similarity. Both of you recognized the errors of your ways and have rectified them."

"I suppose. I hear he's quite shrewd as well. I found his Mobile Fortress quite impressive."

"Quite a work of engineering, that. You and he will make great friends."

Descole scowled. "I don't have friends. Merely acquaintances."

"We shall see." Tom chuckled. "We shall see."

* * *

Tom stepped out of Descole's manor and saw a full moon in the sky. In the distance, he could hear the howl of a wolf.

_Claire's probably already slept by now._

_Oh well. Next stop, Monte D'Or._

But for now, Tom was content staring up at the night sky in wonder, watching the twinkle and shimmer of the stars.

* * *

**So, yeah, please tell me what you think I should write in Chapter Nine! ****Either I can continue with Tom's travels and send him to Monte D'Or, or I can insert a chapter in which the Professor visits Misthallery again. Please fav, follow, and/or review! It really helps! Bye!**

******Wotterkresce Salid**


	10. Chapter 9

**So I've decided to get to the main part of the story ASAP. On to Monte d'Or!**

**Shimmering-Sky: Congratulations! I was afraid Descole would be a little OOC...and yes, he'll eventually meet Clive. I wonder how I'm going to write that...**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: I like drama too :D but I tend to get really tense and stuff. I wanted to go half and half, but ultimately I decided that consistency was more important than quantity.**

**GoldGriffin: I dunno, I really liked the Detragan...Detragiganto...Detrathing. The Fortress was cool and all, but most of it was built by kidnapped scientists. Not Clive himself. Descole built his machine in Eternal Diva by himself and kept it safely hidden without having to build a city over it. Meh. Thank you!**

**Oh, and I finally have a pairing chart for this story! ...yes, I make charts for stuff. So, without further ado:**

**Hershel - Claire (OTP)**

**Descole - Emmy or Clive - Emmy (haven't decided)**

**Clive - Flora or Flora is left unpaired (depends on above)**

**Luke - Arianna (friendship [is magic])**

**Tom...forever alone**

**Enjoy Chapter Nine!**

* * *

Chapter Nine

In the City of Miracles

_Despite its dazzling appearance at night, Monte d'Or looks damn unimpressive in the morning, _Tom thought.

His observation was certainly at least partially correct. Monte d'Or was famous for being lively and bustling with activity amid neon lights, but in the morning, the fun vanished along with the colors.

_Well, for a desert settlement, it's done remarkably well for itself._

"Excuse me, sir, do you know where Ledore Mansion is?"

The man stared. "How do you not know? Aside from the Reunion Inn it's the most famous building in the whole city!"

"It's my first time here. I'm merely a visitor. My apologies."

"Oh...well, sorry. It just seemed a little odd. Most visitors arrive at nighttime, that's all. Well, if you go up ahead, turn right, and continue north, it should be on your right."

"I see. Thank you."

"No problem. Enjoy your time." The man strolled away.

Tom looked toward where the man pointed. _Hm. Might as well practice running. I'll probably need to in the near future._ He grinned. _Twenty six seconds should do it._

And off he went.

* * *

Tom reached the residence, panting and gasping for air.

"Damn. Thirty three seconds," he grumbled. "I blame the bumpy road..."

He knocked on the door. Moments later, a man with light brown hair wearing a blue suit and red tie opened the door.

"Hello. My name is Henry Ledore. Who are you?"

"My name is Tom. I wish to speak with Randall and Angela Ascot."

The man furrowed his brow. "And what business do you have with them?"

"It...involves the Professor. In a way."

Henry looked confused, then his expression brightened. "Ah! You mean Hershel Layton! Right this way, please."

As he was led into the house, Tom mused, _It seems Randall is really great friends with the Professor. I didn't even need to state my business, I just needed to mention a name._

* * *

"You're really a Time Guardian?" Randall asked for what seemed like the seven billionth time.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yes, I am. I have come for assistance; the world is in grave danger."

"How so?" Angela asked. Understandably, she was quite suspicious of this man who showed up out of nowhere and pretended to be a mythological figure.

"Do both of you know what the Oculus is?"

Randall immediately nodded. "Of course! I am an archaeologist, after all."

Angela meekly said that she had no idea what an Oculus was.

Ignoring Randall's expression of horror, she asked, "So what is it, exactly? Am I correct in saying it is important?"

"You are, in fact, understating it, ma'am. The Oculus is what allows us to live in a world where time flows linearly. So naturally, it is fundamental to existence as we know it. Being a Time Guardian, my job is to get rid of anything that might disrupt the flow of time. For example, a pebble might make a splash in a river. Likewise, some anomaly might find its way into the time stream. The difference is, while a pebble falling into a river only affects the system a tiny amount and has no real harmful effects, a paradox will cause the time stream to lose control, possibly self-destruct. Even worse, some paradoxes simply pop up naturally, out of nowhere. So the Oculus prunes them out, acting as a security system."

"Yeah! And if someone gets their hands on it, they can do whatever they want!" Randall laughed. "The mere threat of using it could bring governments to their knees!"

"Precisely. Unfortunately...the Oculus is missing."

"What!?"

"Yes. And I fear there is someone who wants it. I do not know who or why, but I can sense it. I do not know when it will appear. It could even be miles underground, though chances are this is not the case."

Randall suddenly became serious (Angela liked to call it his "professional face"). "Hm. So let me guess, you need some help getting it before this other guy does?"

"Yes."

"Alright then, I'll help. Wait..." Randall was deep in thought. "I heard that writings describing the Oculus date back to almost ten thousand years ago, on the walls of the Nautilus Chamber. So does that mean...the Oculus is of Azran origin?"

"It is. Good deduction."

"Hold on. The Oculus was made by the first Time Guardian. So does that mean that the Time Guardians were Azran?"

"No."

"Oh..."

"But you are very close to the truth. The Azrans...were not only the most advanced ancient civilization, they were also the very first ancient civilization. Theon, the first Time Guardian, jump started the creation of Azran civilization by making the sophisticated device that is the Oculus. Not only did this make life extraordinarily simpler (less time complications), it also began an era of innovation, as people realized just what was possible with the materials they had. You could say that the creation of the Oculus was the first Renaissance."

Randall was, of course, fascinated by this information. Interestingly, so was Angela.

"So," Tom continued, "back to the question I came here to ask. Will you help me?"

"Of course!" Randall certainly was an adventurous one.

"I will as well," Angela said.

"Excellent. By the way, I'd like to visit the Nautilus Chamber of Akbadain myself. Do you know how I can reach there?"

"Oh, there's a tour that takes people there and back. It makes one round trip every thirty minutes, so you can spend as much time there as you want and return later."

"Thank you. I will do just that."

* * *

The moon was already high in the sky by the time Tom left Monte d'Or. He took a look back at the city of lights and entertainment.

_It really is more beautiful at night._

* * *

**Chapter Nine DONE! Next chapter we'll continue steamrolling ahead. I want to get to writing the main story; these are all preparatory chapters thus far (with the possible exception of Chapter Three).**

**Please review, favorite, and follow! Don't forget to bring a sweater-wait. Damn. Don't mind me.**


	11. Chapter 10

**Hoi! I is back**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Yeah, one thing I decided at the beginning of the story was that Time Guardians could not be immortal. That would ruin my story concept completely. So I made Tom a human being, just like you and I, always eager to explore. I'm glad you like my story!**

**Shimmering-Sky: Yes, Randall's always been, in my mind, a prankster. I think I'll have him participate in the jailbreak. Should be interesting...**

**So yes, pairings have been finalized. I decided to keep Descole-Emmy and Clive-Flora, and everything else is, of course, the same. Including Tom...sigh. Poor guy. **

**Enjoy this chapter! The real fun starts soon.**

* * *

Chapter Ten

Tom's Letter

_To Hershel Layton, Luke Triton, Emmy Altava, Flora Reinhold, Arianna Barde, Tony Barde, the Black Ravens, Jean Descole, Randall Ascot, and Angela Ascot:_

_Not long ago, I approached you, requesting that you assist me in finding the Oculus. All of you, I am glad to say, agreed to do so. Above is the full list of everyone relevant, though I have several minor contacts who are personal acquaintances. I shall not disclose their identities._

_This letter will provide further information on our mission._

_First, make sure to cancel any plans you may have, as searching for the Oculus will almost certainly take a large amount of time. _

_There is also the possibility that you may not live long enough to see those plans realized; I have every reason to believe that someone else wants the Oculus for their own purposes, and will probably attempt to sabotage our efforts to retrieve it, injuring or even killing one of our allies in the process. As such, we may have to retaliate. Diplomacy will almost certainly not work; anyone who is working for this enemy of ours is probably exceptionally loyal. _

_I am not worried about the adults; Hershel Layton, Jean Descole, and Randall Ascot I know are good fencers. Emmy Altava is quite skilled in combat. Angela Ascot has her husband for protection; also, they will stay in Monte d'Or for the time being, which I believe will be a safe location. _

_The children, however, are more vulnerable. Though they are clever and have unique talents, they cannot defend themselves as well . Thus, I have decided that our little party is best divided into three main groups:_

_Group 1: Hershel Layton, Luke Triton, Arianna Barde, Tony Barde_

_Group 2: Jean Descole, Emmy Altava, Leon Bronev_

_Group 3: Clive Dove, Flora Reinhold, the Black Ravens_

_As previously stated, Randall and Angela Ascot will remain in Monte d'Or for the time being. I plan to have them join the second group later. Randall may go to Group 1 if I feel the Professor is not enough protection._

_You may be puzzled that Clive Dove and Leon Bronev have not been sent this letter. There is a very good reason for that: they are in prison. Not just any prison, but one of the most secure prisons in Britain: HM Prison Belmarsh. Hershel Layton, Jean Descole, Emmy Altava, Randall Ascot, and (if willing) the Black Ravens, meet me in the Professor's office at Gressenheller University tomorrow evening, at around 8:00. We will free Leon Bronev and Clive Dove, hopefully unharmed. __Leon Bronev has contacts from Targent, he is also a tactical genius. Clive Dove is an excellent machinist; he is decent in combat as well._

_I highly suggest that each group travel together at all times. Letting a member wander off could have dire consequences. Danger could be lurking anywhere. I could be a spy. You could be a spy. Anyone could._

_The Oculus will probably appear between two weeks and seventeen months from now. It will stay at its location indefinitely, and luckily cannot be used freely. For anyone other than a Time Guardian to use it, they must unlock it. How to do so is something I will not take the time to explain in this letter, as it is not quite important to us. _

_Know that this will not be a simple search. We must also figure out who is the one who wants the Oculus and why. Simply finding the Oculus first won't do if our enemy is determined. _

_I will be part of a fourth group consisting of me and my acquaintances. Rest assured, I will keep in touch with letters like this one. _

_Soon, enemy forces will reveal themselves to the world. Perhaps subtly, perhaps not. Be ready._

_We fight for our very existence._

_~Tom_

* * *

**Short chapter, yes, but necessary. Please follow, favorite, and review! :D**


	12. Chapter 11

**Hola. Just so you guys know, at some point in the story I might not update for a while. I'll be plotting out the remainder of the story, as my current plot is somewhat complicated and I'm not sure if it will work. For now I'll continue writing but once the main action reaches a crucial point I may take a break.**

**Shimmering-Sky: Character injury? Death? Maaaaaaaybe...or maybe not. I'm not giving anything away yet :D**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: I'm just as excited as you are! I have sooooooo many ideas for this story...not sure how many will make the cut but still!**

**Enjoy this chapter! This is the last chapter in the first part of the story. We enter HM Prison Belmarsh and free Bronev and Clive. And the mastermind prepares his first move...**

* * *

Chapter Eleven

The Great Escape

"Don't get hurt."

Those were Flora's final words to Emmy before the latter had to leave for Gressenheller University. There, she and a few others would devise a plan to get Bronev and Clive out of prison.

Emmy laughed. "It's alright, Flora. You know me. The Professor's first assistant! This will be a piece of cake!"

"But it's the most secure prison in the entire country..."

"Oh..." Emmy remembered. "Oh well. Still a piece of cake! I'll come back in one piece all right."

"If you say so," Flora answered meekly. "Tell the Professor I said hi."

* * *

"I'm off, Raymond. Do take care of the house, and do refrain from letting in guests."

"Of course, master."

Descole took one last glance at himself in the mirror.

Fashionable hat? Check!

Face mask? Check!

Cape? Check!

As Descole turned to leave, there was only one thing left to consider.

_What will they think of me?_

* * *

"I don't know why he needs criminals to help him with this matter. Knowing them, they'll probably try and take the Oculus for themselves."

"Calm down, Angela. I bet Tom's got a good reason. Plus, I know Hershel knows both of them personally. It'll be fine...and fun!"

"Alright then," said Angela, though she still looked unconvinced. "Henry says that he wishes you the best of luck."

"Oh, Henry..." Randall sighed. "I tried to destroy his city, and he's still loyal to me. Sometimes I really haven't considered how lucky I am to have you and him."

Angela kissed him. "Those days are behind us. That's all in the past. Oh, and Randall?"

"Yes, Angela?"

"Come back alive."

Randall saluted. "Yes, cap'n!"

* * *

"Crow, do you think we really should help Tom break into prison?" queried Wren.

"That's...that's illegal!" Badger shuddered. "We could get arrested!"

"So?"

"BRAVERY, BADGER!"

"Do you honestly think Tom doesn't realize that?" Crow sighed. "There must be a reason why these two prisoners are so important to him. He wouldn't risk his and others' lives to free them otherwise. Since he doesn't want us to be in danger, he did say it was optional for us to come, but...we are the Black Ravens! We have hid from others all our lives, and we have thrived. We gotta help him, and them!"

And as Crow said those words, all of the Black Ravens cheered and forgot what they were arguing about in the first place.

Such was the charisma of Crow.

_It feels great being a leader._

* * *

"Claire, I'm very sure there's nothing wrong with my collar, or my cap, or my jacket. Now, can I leave?"

"Hush, you. You have to look your very best."

"Even though I'm probably going to ruin my outfit?"

"Especially since you're going to ruin your outfit."

_The female mind works in mysterious ways. _"I'm breaking into a _prison_, Claire. I'm not attending a party. There's no one to impress."

"I know."

"...are you just trying to mess with me?"

"Perhaps."

"I hate you."

"Oh! And before you leave, take this." Claire held out a gray flash drive. "My friend gave this to me before I, well..." She trailed off. "Anyway. It's a decryption device. Just in case, you know, you need it."

Tom stared at the object for a long time. "Claire, you have just made my task infinitely easier. Thank you very much." He took the device and slipped it into his pocket.

"You're welcome. Tell Hershel I said hi."

"You know I can't."

Claire sighed. "I know, but still...can you just pretend it's some sort of spiritual thing where I'm talking from the afterlife? Or something like that. You know, twist the truth."

"Fine. I will." Tom left the room.

* * *

Professor Layton paced back and forth in his office, waiting for his guests to arrive. Part of him, the methodical, calculating part, was wondering how the enemy mentioned in Tom's letter would strike first.

The other part of him, the gentlemanly, social part, was incredibly nervous about meeting his acquaintances after such a long time.

_Emmy...she was a great assistant. I wonder if she'll still think of me fondly...I don't really know. _

_Descole. I thought he was my enemy, but, in fact, he was my brother, who only wanted to keep me safe and happy...though he had quite a strange way of doing so..._

_Randall. _The Professor chuckled. _That little devil._

Just then, he heard someone knock on the door.

"Come in."

A familiar looking man in a blue cap stepped in. "Hello, Professor."

"How are you, Tom?"

"Well. The others should be here shortly. Ah! I think they're here now."

Sure enough, Emmy, Descole, and Randall entered the room.

"Nice to see you again, Professor Layton."

"Layton. We meet again."

"Hello, Hershel!"

To everyone's surprise, a horde of kids soon tumbled through the doorway as well.

Only Tom seemed unaffected. "So you chose to come after all."

Crow got up and dusted himself off. "Of course! There's nothing like an adventure. Besides, you must have a good reason to break the law. Count the Black Ravens in on this one!"

"That's the attitude I like. The world could use more upstanders like you." Addressing everyone in the room, he said, "Now, I'm aware there is much you all would like to talk about with each other, seeing as you have not met for some time, but tonight we're going to get Bronev and Clive out of a high-security prison, so I'd appreciate it if we could focus on that for now."

Everyone nodded.

"Now, here is the plan..."

* * *

HM Prison Belmarsh looked ominous at night, comparable to Herzen Castle. No outsider knew of what happened inside its walls. The prisoners were said to be men of the worst kind possible.

That was why guards like Melvin were there. Whenever an inmate needed a little discipline, he and his friends would gladly administer it.

"Hey, Jones, remember that dude we had to punch yesterday?"

"Yeah." The other guard laughed. "What was his name?"

"His name? Who gives a-" Melvin stopped. "Hold on, do you hear something?"

Jones looked at him. "Are you paranoid-"

Then they were both knocked unconscious, tranquilizer darts stuck in their necks.

"Nice shot, Socket!"

"Hehe. Thanks. I'm not a mechanic for nothing!"

"Good job," commended Crow. "Now, Badger, run and tell Tom we've got these two for him."

* * *

"Professor, I need you to figure out what cells Clive and Bronev are in. Here's a device that will help you hack into the computer database, but I don't know how to use it. You might." Tom took out the USB drive Claire gave him. "Good luck, let me know when you're done."

The Professor instantly recognized the object. _Claire gave one to me before! It's been so long since I've used one... _As he thought of Claire, he wiped a tear from his eye. _Concentration, Hershel. You can do it. _

It wasn't long before the Professor found the information Tom wanted. "Clive's in this cell, here, on the third floor. Bronev's in the cell directly below Clive's, on the second floor."

"Excellent."

Just then, Badger ran in, saying, "We got some of them for you, Tom. Dunno why you need them, but, they're there."

"Thank you, Badger. You and the Black Ravens should return to Misthallery for now. The Professor will have to stay; we need the Laytonmobile to get Bronev and Clive to safety."

_On with the next phase of the plan,_ he thought. _I hope Descole and Randall play their part...literally..._

* * *

"I hate these stupid outfits. Whoever this Melvin guy is, he sure smells..."

"Quiet, Ascot!" whispered Descole. "Jones's uniform is even worse! It's too small!"

"Well, I mean, you dressed yourself as Angela, so you have experience..."

"Very true. Look, there's the stairs. Let's split up for now. You get Bronev, and I'll get Clive." Descole resisted the urge to say "my terrible father."

"Alright. You have a tranquilizer gun, right?"

"I do. What about you?"

"I have one. Okay, let's go!" Randall dashed up the stairs.

Descole followed him, gripping his tranquilizer gun. As he passed floor two, he noticed that Randall had already knocked out a guard and dragged his body into Clive's cell.

_He's quick._

* * *

"Huh?" Clive mumbled groggily as he heard his cell door open. "Wha-OH MY GOD WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

"Quiet!" Randall hissed. "I'm Randall Ascot, a good friend of Hershel's. I'm here to rescue you."

Clive noticeably brightened at the mention of the Professor. "Really? He's here?"

"Yes, he's in the parking lot. Once you get out, you can talk, but for now..." Randall pointed to the guard he'd dragged into the room. "Dress yourself up!"

Clive groaned. _None of the guards know the word 'hygiene,' sadly. _"Okay."

After a minute, Clive was set. Randall and he exited the cell and met with Descole, who was accompanied by another guard...not.

"That's Bronev," Descole whispered to Randall. "Now come, we've got to get out of here before the other guards realize they're missing."

As the four rushed across the parking lot and into the Laytonmobile, they heard alarms go off within the prison.

"Safe!" Randall gasped.

"Congratulations," Tom said. "Professor, drive us back to your home, please."

* * *

A hooded figure sat in a large armchair, fingers lightly tapping on the desk. It looked up as a man entered.

"We've managed to locate the Hellspawn portal."

The figure smiled. "Excellent. Is everyone aware of their part in the London operation?"

"Yes. Everything is set."

"Perfect. Execute the operation in two days' time." The ringleader, the puppetmaster, the mastermind rose and looked out toward the horizon.

_The dawn of a new era...is coming._

* * *

**So what is the London operation? Who is this shadowy individual? What does he want?**

**All good questions, I'm sure. BUT I'M NOT ANSWERING THEM MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA**

**Please follow, favorite, and review! As in...PLEASE. With a capital P. And L. And E. And...yeah. **


	13. Chapter 12

**The first chapter o****f Part Two of Time Limit. In Part Two, the race to the Oculus begins and, as the reader will soon see, becomes something much, much worse. All is not fair in life and war when there are determined enemies...who will do anything to reach their goal...**

**As if that weren't complicated enough, what about our little band of heroes? What will develop among them?**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: No, not even in this chapter will I answer your questions. The answers will come eventually... :D**

**Shimmering-Sky: Wow, six reviews in one! Thanks! XD**

**Guest: I don't know how to answer your question without giving away too much...but yes, Don Paolo will make an appearance. Possibly an important one.**

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Operation London

"I'm back, Claire!" Tom announced as he entered the room.

There was no answer.

"Claire?"

Still no answer.

"...this isn't funny!"

In the darkness, a figure rose. It then walked over to Tom and smacked him.

"Neither is you waking me up in the middle of the night!" Claire then returned to her bed and fell asleep.

"That hurt..." Tom muttered. "Oh well. I suppose I'll sleep too, then."

He plopped onto his pillow on the floor and dozed off soon after.

* * *

The Professor and Tom argued long and hard about where Clive and Bronev should stay. In the end, they'd agreed that the Professor's house was the safest place. It had been two days since the two ex-prisoners moved in, and so far all was well.

Clive, struggling to stay awake, came into the dining room.

"Good morning, Clive," the Professor quipped, without even glancing up from his newspaper. "Would you like some tea? And where's Leon?"

"Still in bed, I think," replied Clive. "And yes, tea will be wonderful."

The two sat in silence before Clive asked, "Professor, if you don't mind me asking..."

"Ask away."

"Why do you read newspapers when you have a TV in the living room? It's not as if the TV is faulty-it's in pristine condition."

The Professor laughed. "Yes. The television is-well, was-mostly for Luke. The difference between his generation and mine. I enjoy newspapers. Less taxing on the eyes, and they're disposable." He smiled as he remembered Luke's glee as he watched _Jeopardy_ ("Professor, that lady's not smart enough!").

"Ah. Do you mind if I use it?"

"Not at all. The remote should be next to it."

Clive went through another door and turned on the television. The Professor poured himself another cup of tea and decided to take a crack at the crossword. All was peaceful. Until...

"Professor!"

"Hm? What?"

"Come here! There's some breaking news!"

The Professor rushed over to the TV. The screen showed a news reporter standing in front of a large building.

"This morning, the bodies of several guards at the British Museum were found lying on the floor there. Not only that, but several of the most valuable artifacts showcased there were taken," the reporter declared.

"What?" the Professor cried. "The British Museum is one of the most heavily guarded buildings in London! How is this possible?" Clive wore a similar expression of horror.

The reporter continued, "A case containing ancient weapons was smashed. Everything inside was taken. The Book of the Arcane, an Azran tome rumored to contain a vast number of ancient spells, was also reported to be missing. A bronze sculpture known as _Th__e Triumph of Man_ was stolen as well. The thief also tried to snatch part of a tomb, though it was left behind in another room. Officials believe that they gave up on trying to carry such a large weight. It is believed that he took the Pyriatic Gem, a stone with a fire burning inside of it, in its place, as the tomb piece was found next to the Pyriatic Gem's shattered exhibition case. Various other minor trinkets were also purloined."

"Oh my..." the Professor whispered. "So many treasures..." Being an archaeologist, he knew what each and every object the reporter mentioned was.

"The fallen guards who tried to protect the museum will be honored, according to Prime Minister Bill Hawks..."

Clive's fist clenched. "That little-"

The Professor put a hand on his shoulder. "Clive. Calm down."

"But-"

"A gentleman must never lose his temper."

Clive sighed before turning his attention, yet again, to the television.

"The thief entered the museum through the main entrance, says Inspector Chelmey. According to him, the positions of the guards' bodies along with the approximate times of their deaths make it impossible for the criminal to have entered from anywhere else."

"This seems virtually impossible," said Professor Layton. "How could anyone get past the guards that way? Something doesn't add up..."

Just then, Bronev walked into the room. "What did I miss?"

* * *

"Whoever this thief is, he's become a million times richer," Tom said to Claire, who was sitting across from him at one of the tables in the hotel's restaurant.

"Probably even more than that. There are a lot of people who would pay a fortune to own any one of these pieces."

"You're right." Tom furrowed his brow. "Though something tells me money isn't the only gain the thief was after."

"Hm?"

"First of all, there are other valuable items there. The Rosetta Stone, the Elgin Marbles...these are worth much more than a case of ancient weapons. Furthermore, no one in their right mind would attempt to move a tomb piece, a slab of solid rock, by himself. It must have been a planned operation, one that involved more than one person. Now, I am still not sure why the tomb piece was left behind, but I suspect that Scotland Yard is very close to the truth. The items taken are not...optimal, in any way. And then apparently other lesser artifacts were taken as well. Profit wise, one would be much better off selling one extremely famous artifact than several minior ones. It all just seems a mess."

"So you suspect that the thieves were after the items themselves, and not money?"

"That is a possibility. Perhaps they are also after money. Ancient weapons might sell at a high price to an avid enthusiast. Maybe the thieves know someone to sell these items to. You never know. Would you like some coffee?"

"Tea, please."

Tom chuckled. "It seems the Professor's influenced you quite heav-"

"I could punch you again, you know."

"...I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

"We've got what you wanted, Emissary."

"Excellent," the Emissary said. "I trust you have placed the red herrings as told?"

"Yes. Our London contact was most cooperative."

"Hm. Pitiful fool. We will dispose of him in due time." The Emissary grinned. "Everything is falling into place perfectly. Prepare the journey to the Hellspawn portal."

"Right away."

As the Emissary's aide rushed out of the room, the hooded figure lay back in its seat, yawning contently.

_Today's a good day to burn a city._

* * *

**ANNNNNNNNNNNNND ON THAT CLIFFHANGER, I'LL END THE CHAPTER. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA**

**So who is this Emissary person? Why did the thieves take the items they took? Why does Bronev wake up so late? All great questions. Fantastic questions. They'll all be answered...maybe with the exception of the third one, but yeah.**

**Please follow, favorite, review!**


	14. Chapter 13

**This chapter could probably have been squished in with Chapter 12, but I wanted Chapter 12 to stand by itself. So, instead of one long chapter, you guys get two tiny tidbits. Enjoy. In this chapter, the Professor tries to guess the motive behind the museum heist**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: I'm cruel, aren't I? Don't worry, your questions will get answered in due time...or will they? MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! And, patience is the key, my friend. Maybe I'll slow down updating just for you :D Oh, and yes, Claire seems to be rather aggressive, doesn't she? I wonder if she's on her-never mind.**

**Shimmering-Sky: Glad you liked it! The Emissary is, in one word, enigmatic. Intentions? No one knows. You might think you know in this chapter...but I guarantee that you don't. The Emissary might be like Descole in the Last Specter:**** a diabolical, ambitious mastermind** (yes, I know his motives are explained in Azran Legacy, but still...who was playing through PL4 and was thinking, "oh, there's Layton's selfless brother"? Not me!). Or maybe like Clive, wronged in the past and seeking revenge. Maybe I've finally invented a cool character unlike anyone else! Hm...nah, I'm terrible.

**RavenGoesToHeaven: I read the word "Clershel." Let's be friends.**

**Enjoy! Or else...*hair changes to crimson* I'll cut off your tongue.**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

The Alternate Plane

"Well." The Professor really didn't know what to say.

"That was rather shocking news," Clive admitted.

"Beyond shocking. Pulling off this sort of crime is impossible. I don't know how the criminals managed to do it."

Clive posited a theory. "Maybe the guards were part of it too?"

"Perhaps. Though the guards are most definitely trustworthy. Perhaps they were...set up. By a third party."

"Who?"

"I don't know. These are all assumptions. For now-" The Professor was cut off by a ringing sound in an adjoining room. "I'll be right back." He rushed over to the telephone and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Professor."

"...may I ask who is calling me?"

"This is Tom."

"Ah. Good morning to you as well."

"Thank you. I'm sure you've heard of the museum break-in that took place last night? Apparently everyone has...in fact no one is talking about the Belmarsh incident anymore."

"Yes. It was on the news broadcast."

"Good. Now, Professor. I don't think whoever did this crime wanted only money."

"Neither do I. The items stolen seem a bit...haphazard. I have been to the museum before, and the items stolen are located far away from each other. Nor are they as valuable as some of the other ancient treasures showcased."

"Precisely. If you don't mind, would you and Randall figure out the significance of the artifacts stolen? I have not heard of any of them."

"Not at all. I'm not too familiar with them myself."

"It's settled, then. I will go investigate the crime scene. Scotland Yard knows me quite well."

* * *

"I think you're crazy," Arianna flatly told Luke.

Luke put on his signature blue cap. "I'm not! It's just that this case about the British Museum sounds really interesting, and I want to investigate it with the Professor! I was going to visit him soon anyway."

"Shouldn't you at least tell him beforehand?"

"What!?" Luke cried. "Are you insane! It's got to be a surprise."

Arianna mentally slapped herself. "Uh...alright...have fun...I guess...say hi to the Professor for me."

"Not a chance!" Luke said. "You're going to say hi yourself! Come on, we haven't got time!" He grabbed Arianna's hand and dragged her out of her room.

"Wha-Luke! Stop it! Tony! Tony! Help!"

Instead, Tony pretended to be completely oblivious to Arianna's pleas, a grin on his face all the while.

"I'll get you back for this, Tony!" Arianna screamed as Luke pulled her out of Barde Manor.

As Luke led Arianna down Highyard Hill, the Black Ravens passed by, on their way to the lake (now their favorite place to hang out). And promptly burst into laughter. Even Crow had to snicker at the comical scene.

Arianna blushed furiously when Marilyn winked at her and gave her a thumbs up.

"To London!" Luke shouted. "C'mon, we'll use my dad's car!"

"I-"

"Are you saying you don't want to go?"

"Of c-" Arianna then saw Luke's downcast expression. She sighed. "Not at all. I'd love to."

"Great!" Same old Luke. "Just a note of warning, my dad's a terrible driver!"

_Oh dear..._

A number of near-accidents later, Luke and Arianna arrived at the Professor's house. After waving to Clark as he drove away, they knocked on the door.

A familiar looking man with a top hat greeted them. "Luke! Arianna! It's been a while. Come in."

* * *

"So that's why Clive and Bronev are here?" Luke asked. Despite having received Tom's letter, he was still quite surprised to see the two former prisoners in the Professor's living room.

"Yes. Tom and I decided that this would be the safest place. As a matter of fact, since you're here..." Professor Layton looked at the clock. "You can help me with something. Randall should be here any minute-"

"Wait. Randall's coming too?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. He is. Tom wants us to figure out the history of each artifact stolen from the British Museum. Their purposes and whatnot. He thinks the thieves weren't after just money. I share that belief."

"Why? It seems like they just want to sell these artifacts and make a fortune."

"Luke, think about it. There are much more valuable objects in the museum, and yet only a few were taken, none of truly extraordinary value. Furthermore, they were located throughout the museum; the thieves would have had to travel around the entire museum to steal what they did. And how did such well-trained guards fail to stop them? Especially if they entered through the main entrance, which, according to our esteemed friend Inspector Chelmey, they did."

Luke processed this new information. "That doesn't seem very likely, does it?"

"No. There's something suspicious about this case. I feel that there is more to it than meets the eye." Just then, they heard someone furiously banging the door. "Ah! that must be Randall."

* * *

"So. The ancient weapons. I dropped by the museum while on my way here, and apparently the collection consists of a few axes, a pike of some sort, a double-edged sword, and some daggers," Randall listed.

"Nothing special about them?" the Professor inquired.

"Nope. Just typical weapons."

"Let's ignore those for now, then."

"I brought my computer today, by the way. It's quite cutting-edge. It can access content usually not available." Randall typed a few characters into the search bar and pressed 'Enter.' "Here's some interesting information about the Book of the Arcane. It's considered the Bible of Azran civilization; almost everyone owned a copy. Its pages detail some of the most important events in Azran history, and also contains a section of keywords, or magical spells. Most people don't believe that these spells actually do anything, but the possibility is there. There's a full translation online, and there's a few of the more interesting drawings as well. Here, have a look."

Luke was quite baffled as the two archaeologists became engrossed in analyzing every minute detail shown onscreen. Finally, he said: "Look, the Book of the Arcane wasn't the only thing taken!"

It was then that Randall realized how long he'd been staring at the screen. "Oh. Right."

"The bronze sculpture. Is there anything about that?"

"Oh." Randall entered the words "The Triumph of Man bronze sculpture" into the computer. "It was created to honor some battle or other. No one knows which though. It's honestly not much. I can't find any information on it, except it is very valuable due to how intricate it is."

Luke frowned. "Huh. Not very interesting, then."

"Nope."

"Randall, look up the Pyriatic Crystal, would you?" Professor Layton asked.

"Sure." Within seconds, Randall had the page loaded. "The Pyriatic Crystal is basically a crystal with a flame that somehow burns inside it, without oxygen or fuel. It's said to originate from Hell itself. It's 'the connection between Earth and Hell', apparently...probably complete bullsh-"

"Wait...load up the Book of the Arcane again, please."

Randall opened a new tab, and showed the Professor the images of the requested tome.

"If I'm not mistaken, there was a symbol similar to the Pyriatic Crystal here somewhere...I'm not sure...this is just instinct."

"You'll be searching a while. The book is really long." Randall chuckled.

"No problem, Professor! I'll help!" Luke's enthusiasm was infectious.

In fact, Luke did find the symbol first. "This the one, Professor?"

"Yes, the exact same. Good work, Luke. Read its description, please."

"Alright." Luke cleared his throat. "'The Hellspawn portal, sealed by the forbidden spell. Uttering it opens the portal, provided that the one who used the spell also has the keystone in his possession...' but hold on. What's the keystone? And does this portal exist?"

"I don't know. Let's present our findings to Tom. Maybe he can make sense of it."

* * *

The Emissary stepped out of his helicopter along with several aides. "Ah. The Hellspawn portal."

It looked quite simple, reminding the Emissary of Stonehenge. But the Emissary knew better.

"Hand me the Pyriatic Crystal."

The aide obeyed the command without question.

Grinning, the Emissary held the crystal and whispered, "Aperirae."

A flicker of red appeared in the center of the arch before the arch melted before the Emissary's very eyes. It then reformed into an obsidian doorway with a hazy crimson outline...

"Excellent. We've arrived at Hell."

* * *

**Dunno what I was thinking when I wrote this chapter. Must have been half asleep; hopefully next chapter's a little better. The Emissary has reached the Hellspawn portal. What will he do next?**

**Please favorite, follow, and review! :D Please. Pwitty please! With a tangerine on top! ...I don't know, I like tangerines.**


	15. Chapter 14

**Shimmering-Sky: When you said "I doubt this is any good" I thought you were referring to my story T-T wow I'm dumb**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: I don't know about you, but Randall always seemed much less...gentlemanly than Professor Layton. So of course I had to make him (almost) swear XD And yes, Arianna and Luke are the cutest couple ever. I mean, the kissing scene in Last Specter was just precious. And adorable.**

**RavenGoesToHeaven: This is completely unrelated to your review, but your profile picture reminds me of the bomb bird from Angry Birds. Just saying.**

**This chapter is pretty boring, in all honesty. Tom tells the Professor some history facts about what we call Hell. Oh, and the Emissary goes to another reality, but that's totally not cool at all. Am I right, or am I right?**

**Thumbs up to anyone who laughed at the title without looking back through the story.**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

A Day in Hell II

The Professor rose and dialed a certain number. Within seconds, a voice on the other end answered:

"Hello, Professor. Found anything interesting? Your voice seems a little distorted, probably because the connection here is terrible."

"We've found a few interesting facts. The ancient weapons are not special in any way, but the Book of the Arcane is quite...incredible. We found a symbol that closely resembles the Pyriatic Crystal. It has a few lines of writing below it. Translated, the first few words mean 'The Hellspawn portal, sealed by the forbidden spell. Uttering it opens the portal, provided that the one who used the spell also has the keystone in his possession...' and the rest is too worn to read. We are not sure what the bronze sculpture's significance is-Tom, are you there? You haven't said anything this whole time."

"I'm coming. If what you say is true, then...the world is in grave, grave danger."

* * *

Once Tom had arrived and seen the Professor's findings with his own eyes, his face became very pale.

"Oh no...this is terrible..."

Tom sat down. "Professor, Randall, Luke, I suppose I'd better tell you some more information."

"The Oculus is a device that controls time, yes. I generally describe it as a pipe, with the time stream flowing inside. However, this begs a question. What's on the outside?

"The answer is, there's an alternate plane of existence, called Chaos. Before, without the Oculus, Chaos would mix in with our universe, causing the Storm. The ancients described it as a land of fire, agony, and punishment, leading to the modern conception of Hell. Indeed, Chaos is quite a terrible place to be, and what survives there has slowly been warped, twisted over time. They are known as the Hellspawn.

"The Storm was a time of volatility. Frequently, dimensional rifts would open, causing Hellspawn to leak into our universe. Granted, our planet was still quite safe, since the chances of a rift occurring right on Earth are nonexistent. Unfortunately, one day a horde of Hellspawn just happened to find themselves in the middle of what we now call the United States.

"The ancients originally had no idea what to do with these creatures. I have never seen a Hellspawn myself, so I can't say for sure what they look like. They are undoubtedly ghastly. For centuries, the Hellspawn ravaged the land and the people. Did you know the Sahara Desert used to be a verdant landscape? The Hellspawn burned it all. Volcanoes, with a few exceptions, owe their existence to the Hellspawn. The ancients became desperate to get rid of these pests, once and for all. But how?

"It was then that Theon, the first Time Guardian, made his discoveries about the origin of the Hellspawn. He realized he could solve two problems at once: the complex nonlinear flow of time and the Hellspawn. While he was busy creating the Oculus, those who knew about his discoveries built their own dimensional rift. One that would send the Hellspawn back to Chaos.

"Today, we call that rift the Hellspawn portal. To ensure that the creatures could not cross, they created a keystone, which I assume is the Pyriatic Crystal, and a password. Only with both can the portal be opened, and even then only partially. Not enough Hellspawn can cross the rift to pose a large threat. The Oculus protects the rest of the universe from dimensional rifts. Therefore, we are quite safe from Hellspawn attacks. Until now, that is."

"You think that the person who took these items is trying to open the Hellspawn portal?" the Professor inquired.

"I'm not sure," Tom admitted. "It seems likely, but I have no idea why they would want to."

"And also, the Book of the Arcane did not contain the password. We read all of the text under the symbol of the Pyriatic Crystal and it merely mentions that there is a 'forbidden spell.'"

"Ah." Tom smiled. "'Forbidden' in the Azran language can also mean 'inaccessible', based on the context. In the book you will see there is a symbol of a gate. Under it should say the spell."

"I thought you weren't familiar with the Book of the Arcane?"

"I know what it is, I just usually don't call it the 'Book of the Arcane.' When I came to see what you found I instantly recognized it."

"Wait a moment!" Randall interrupted. "Do you think this has anything to do with the Oculus?"

Everyone became quite silent.

"You know, Randall...maybe. In any case, we should start looking for it while we plan our next move," Tom said. He stood. "Good day, Professor. And you, Randall. Luke, Arianna seems quite lonely over there. Go talk to her." Luke blushed. He indeed forgot that he had dragged his friend along with him to the Professor's house.

Tom turned and left the room. Then, everyone heard the telltale sound of the front door slamming shut.

* * *

The Emissary looked at the Hellspawn portal, in front of him.

"Stay here. I will go alone."

As the Emissary stepped into the portal, the ground and ruins seemed to shimmer before disappearing. They became pillars of magma and obsidian cliffs. A narrow, winding path with sheer drops on both sides lay in front.

_Trial by fire, _the Emissary thought. Walking on the rocky road with practiced ease, the Emissary soon found a dead end.

"How wonderful...a human..." a voice rasped.

The Emissary turned. "Hello, Hellspawn. May I ask what is your name?"

"Oh! And such manners!" The Hellspawn cackled. It circled above the Emissary, fangs bared. "No fear, either...perhaps I was right in sparing you as you entered here."

"I have an offer to make to Inimae."

If a Hellspawn could raise an eyebrow, this one most definitely did. "And what would you need from him?"

"That is something I wish to discuss with him alone."

The Hellspawn mulled over the Emissary's words. A part of his brain told him to kill the human immediately and enjoy a meal. But the more rational side of him was intrigued. It had been millennia since the last human had come. And no one had ever dared to make an offer to the Daemonlord. _What does this human want?_

"Very well. I suppose you're wondering how to scale the cliff? Just jump. This isn't your petty world. Different rules apply."

As the Emissary turned to the cliff and leaped, the Hellspawn flew off to inform Inimae of his visitor.

* * *

Some time later, the same Hellspawn returned.

"Follow me. I'll lead you to Inimae."

"Thank you."

The Hellspawn chuckled darkly. "No problem...just make sure you're worth his time, or there may be...consequences."

"Sure. My offer is quite appealing; I doubt he will be dissatisfied."

"For your sake, I hope he is satisfied."

The two arrived at a massive city carved out of a cliff face. What once was a huge cliff had been carved into many smaller terracelike ledges, each with buildings.

"Nothing like it in your world, eh? Inimae's in that big palace, up there. Remember, you can jump."

"I know." The Emissary jumped onto one ledge, then another, until he arrived at Inimae's abode.

"Come in."

The Emissary twisted the iron bar and pushed, entering the palace. Magma chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the floor was decorated with fire.

"I'm sorry. I forgot you humans were so...sensitive to heat." The flames subsided, revealing a tall figure. "Oredul said you had an offer for me. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, let me hear it."

"I am the Emissary. My goal is to get the Oculus. To do so, I need some help. I do not know where it is, nor when it will appear. Thus, I would like to request your assistance."

"I see. What is in this deal for me?"

"In return, I will keep this portal open so you and your fellow Hellspawn can stake out a claim in the real world. I believe that you used to spend quite a happy time there, no?"

Inimae scowled as well as his face would allow him to. "Yes. Then they sent us back here. And I am cut off from my friends and family, as I am trapped in a different part of Chaos than they are."

"So, I will let you live in our world, and in return you cooperate with me."

"What is stopping us from directly charging through the portal?"

"Several things. One, humanity has developed new, deadly technology. Back then you were free to roam as all the ancients could really do was throw spears. Now we have what we call guns and rifles, which can shoot a projectile faster than the speed of sound. Furthermore, larger versions of guns that fire farther and use more powerful ammunition can even damage an area, rather than a single being. Two, the Hellspawn portal can only access this pocket of Chaos that you live in. You don't have enough Hellspawn to take over our planet, though you do have several hundred. I, on the other hand, have a large force of other humans. I operate from the shadows, and my subordinates perform their duties excellently. We just pulled off an extraordinarily dangerous robbery, one that pitted us against one of the best security systems in the world, that of the British Museum. In fact, that is where I found what I needed to open the portal to come speak to you."

Inimae considered the Emissary's words. "Impressive. Very well. I accept your offer. On one condition."

"What?"

"There is a certain troublesome figure. The Time Guardian. He can deal with us. I want you to get rid of him first before we enter your world. Then..." The Hellspawn reached down and offered a handshake / clawshake. "Consider us your allies."

The Emissary accepted the offer.

* * *

**Chapter 15: The Emissary knows what must be done next. Does Tom? Do his friends? What will happen? I'M LEAVING YOU ALL IN THE DARK AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHA**

**Please follow, favorite, or review! Pwease.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Hm...the intuition is strong with this one. Maybe, just maybe, your feelings are correct...but you'll have to read on :D**

**Shimmering-Sky: Lovely indeed. Tom's in trouble, definitely. And the rest of them? Well...I can't give that away yet, can I?**

**GoldGriffin: Yay! You're back! And no, you weren't confusing at all. I have to admit, before Chapter 10 was posted, I spent a lot of time thinking about how I would be able to focus on a few characters at a time. My solution was to split them into groups (search parties, in a way), as Tom's letter stated. Unfortunately, that leaves the story an utter wreck until the characters actually split. Luckily, soon I can write about each group individually. Not sure how large of a role Claire will play yet though...but I promise that she'll meet the Professor. Eventually.**

**Guest: Thanks!**

**Chapter 15: Once again, this and the next chapter could have gone together, but I decided to make them separate. So this chapter is merely preparation...which I hope does not detract from its quality.**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

The Fork in the Road

The Emissary, all work in Chaos done, went back through the Hellspawn portal.

A single command, "Fly back to headquarters", prompted the men stationed around the ruins to rush over and enter the helicopter.

Boarding last, the Emissary had only one puzzle in mind:

_How should I dispose of the Time Guardian?_

Three minutes later, a wicked grin crossed the Emissary's face.

_There's nothing like a diabolical plan._

* * *

Within the hour, another letter had been issued.

_To __Emmy Altava, Flora Reinhold, Arianna Barde, Tony Barde, the Black Ravens, Jean Descole, Angela Ascot, Clive Dove, and Leon Bronev:_

___Thanks to Hershel Layton, Randall Ascot, and Luke Triton, we have discovered the reason behind the British museum robbery. It was not, as first assumed, to seize the artifacts and fetch a high price, but rather to use these artifacts in a certain way. A way most horrifying and unusual._

_There exists an alternate plane of reality, called Chaos. Before, without the Oculus, bits of Chaos would intermingle with bits of our universe, causing the Storm. Bearing an uncanny resemblance to what we call Hell, it is inhabited by twisted, demonic creatures, known as Hellspawn. Chaos is so vast that the number of Hellspawn is approximately three times the number of stars in the Virgo Supercluster._

_Frequently, due to collisions between Chaos and our plane, dimensional rifts would open, causing Hellspawn to leak into our universe. Some, unfortunately, ended up on our planet. __For centuries, they wreaked havoc, massacring people and razing large expanses of land. Some areas, such as the Sahara Desert, were claimed by the Hellspawn, who burned everything there. __Then, Theon, the first Time Guardian, discovered the existence of Chaos. He realized that the presence of these Hellspawn was directly related to the instability of the time stream. Thus, he created the Oculus as a barrier between Chaos and us to prevent more dimensional rifts from occurring, and stabilize the time stream at the same time. Due to its consisting of time essence as well as physical material, the Oculus is near-indestructible. Meanwhile, others built the __Hellspawn portal, an artificial dimensional rift, to send the Hellspawn back over into Chaos. They created a keystone and a password to protect the gate from being opened, and should anyone ever manage to acquire both, the portal only opens very slightly, into a tiny sector of Chaos. There are not enough Hellspawn in said sector to threaten world safety. However, that could change very soon. _

_We have very good reason to believe that the keystone required to open the Hellspawn portal is the Pyriatic Crystal. Furthermore, the password to the portal is actually one of the spells in the Book of the Arcane. Both of these artifacts, as most people know, were taken from the British Museum. We are not sure why anyone would wish to open the Hellspawn portal, but I fear that the Oculus is connected to this incident somehow. _

_I propose a change in priorities. Instead of finding the Oculus, we must eliminate the Hellspawn first. It is very likely that the Hellspawn want the Oculus as much as I do, for far more dastardly reasons. And if the Hellspawn have humans helping them...this is not so much a race as a war._

_I ask that, no matter what may happen, all of you stay strong and persist until the very last enemy is dealt with._

_And to finish this letter, I will give you an Azran farewell._

_Rei' sina cante. May fate be kind._

_-Tom_

* * *

Tom put down his pen.

"Done?" asked Claire.

"Yes. I've said all that needs to be said."

"Oh!" Claire gasped. "I forgot! There was a letter for you today." She pulled out an ornate envelope and handed it to Tom, who opened it.

_To Tom:_

_I've made the most amazing discovery! There's a large boulder on the cliffs of the Cthlin Chasm with a huge inscription in the Azran language. I can't translate much of it, but the illustrations seem to depict some sort of creature, possibly Hellspawn. I think you should come have a look, the information could be useful._

_-Randall_

Tom stared at the piece of paper in his hand. Finally, he spoke, "I think I'll pay a visit."

"To whom?"

"A good friend of mine."

"Who?"

Tom paused. "...I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I...just can't."

Claire pouted. "Well, at least tell me how you met him."

Tom thought for a second, then nodded. "It was quite a while ago..."

* * *

_It was a cool autumn evening as Tom strolled down one of London's many streets. He stopped as he looked through the window of a building. Sitting at a counter was a man ordering a drink._

_Tom immediately walked into the establishment and seated himself next to the man. "Hello. How are you?"_

_The man stared. "How do you know me?"_

_"Well, I heard about the incident in-"_

_"Don't remind me." The man sighed. "I feel so ashamed, just thinking about it..."_

_"There's no shame in-"_

_"I was responsible for a death too, you know. I could have saved her..." the man murmured to himself._

_"I don't think you could have."_

_"And what makes you think that!?" he shouted. "Do you know how much she meant to me!?"_

_"I do." Tom noticed everyone else in the bar was staring at them, so he added, "It would be nice if you could talk more quietly."_

_"Fine." The man scowled. As everyone else returned to their own business, he muttered, "Who do you think you are anyway? First you come down here, without even so much as an introduction, and then you talk about-"_

_"I'm a Time Guardian. I think you should know what that term means."_

_"...you're kidding me."_

_"Not at all."_

_"The legend of the Time Guardians is nothing more than a legend, a myth."_

_"Wrong. I am living proof."_

_"I still don't quite believe you." The man rose. "If you really are the Time Guardian, you should be able to prove it to me. Drop by my place; you should know where it is, shouldn't you?"_

_"As a matter of fact, I do." Tom rose as well. "Good day."_

_"Good day."_

* * *

"And what happened next?" Claire asked.

"Well, of course, I visited him, proved I was the Time Guardian, and we became friends."

"But how'd you prove you were the Time Guardian?"

"Too many questions!" Tom grinned. "I'm leaving now, see you later!"

"But-" Too late. Tom was already sprinting down the hallway.

* * *

Tom sprinted through the streets, hoping that he'd remembered the correct address.

_What university is he at now...?_

He then mentally slapped himself after realizing he'd been heading in the wrong direction for the past twenty minutes **(A/N: Twenty minutes seems to be quite unlucky for our poor friend, doesn't it?)**, and got into a taxi, too lazy to continue on foot.

Finally, he arrived at a wooden office door. For a moment, Tom was reminded of the Professor's office's similarly unassuming exterior. He knocked on the door loudly.

"Come in."

Tom turned the doorknob and swung the door open.

"Well! This is a surprise! What do you need, Tom?"

"I need you to help me overcome death..."

* * *

**ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA**

**I hope you guys liked this chapter! This chapter was one of the most difficult to write, mostly because I had to set up the next chapter. I'm not sure how well I did it, so let me know with a review! And follow or favorite please! It helps me a lot, you have no idea.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Oh, I'm fine if you die of waiting...cats have nine lives. Then again, my neighbor's cat didn't. **

**Shimmering-Sky: "Because reasons." The logic is strong with this one :D**

**GoldGriffin: I probably would keep you in the dark, lol. Funny how both you and Shimmering-Sky thought the friend was Dimitri. Speaking of funny, it's funny when you say you can't stand cliffhangers when THE ENDING TO YOUR STORY IS ONE *sobs* sequel pls.**

**Chapter 16: The Emissary's plan comes to fruition...and it's quite a cruel one.**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Leap of Faith

Tom returned to the hotel room late in the night. Surprisingly, Claire was still awake.

"What took you so long?" she grumbled irritably.

"Nothing," Tom quickly said. "Anything interesting happen today?"

"Oh. Um..." Claire blushed. "I was eating dinner...and Hershel walked by..."

Tom laughed. "Of course." His face turned serious. "He doesn't know you're here...does he?"

"No. I didn't talk to him."

Tom sighed in relief. "Good."

"Tom..."

"Yes?"

Claire looked at him. "Will I really see him again?"

Before, Tom had always considered Claire an ally. No more, no less. If she and the Professor were still alive after the Oculus was found, then he'd reunite them and disappear from their lives. After all, he had important responsibilities.

But as he heard Claire's childlike whispers, saw her vulnerable expression, he realized that she would become one of them.

_I will protect them both, at any cost._

_I have found another purpose, and I will fulfill it._

_I will make sure that one day they meet again, even if I do not live to see that day._

"Yes. You will."

* * *

The next morning, Tom woke up before Claire (as usual). He chose to be a nice person and let her sleep some more. So, instead of yelling at her to get up, he walked over to the telephone and dialed a certain number in.

"Good morning, Tom. Why are you calling me so early?"

There was a pause. "It's already 9:30."

"Oh. Sorry, I'm a bit tired from exploring all day yesterday...you're coming to the Cthlin Chasm today, right? I'll meet you there."

"Sure. I'll leave in about half an hour."

"Okay." Randall hung up.

Tom ate quickly and left for the Cthlin Chasm as soon as possible. Before he did, though, he left Claire a note:

_Claire:_

_I am going on a long journey. I expect that I won't return for some time. I've left you enough money to get by for a couple months; take up residence with my friend, the physics professor at Cardiff University. He, too, is helping me find the Oculus, though the others do not know of his involvement. Hopefully it will stay that way until I return. Best of luck to you. Good bye for now._

_-Tom_

* * *

The Cthlin Chasm was a remote area located in the middle of nowhere, surrounded completely by forest. It was a little wider than most chasms, but it was also shorter in length. There was almost nothing really extraordinary about the place whatsoever, except for Randall's discovery. At the bottom were extremely sharp rock formations, prompting geologists to question how it had formed without a body of water.

None of that mattered to Tom. After taking a taxi to the nearest city, he'd trekked for more than an hour, and was quite glad to see Randall waving at him.

"Hello, Tom!"

"Hello, Randall. How much further do we have to go?"

"A while. A long while. Don't tell me you're tired already!"

"As a matter of fact, I am, after walking for an hour straight!"

"Sure, sure." Randall pointed. "What I found is actually at the OTHER end of the canyon, so..."

Tom groaned. "Alright then, lead the way."

Tom lasted another forty minutes before he had to desperately try to get his mind off of the pain in his feet. _Hell, I might as well talk to Randall._

"Randall, how did you first meet Angela and Henry?" Tom asked as he and Randall hiked along the edge of the chasm.

Randall smiled. "It was a really long time ago...we just lived in the same town, that's all. Somehow we became friends. I was more of a prankster. She was lively too, just a little more...conformist. And Henry was always the sensible one."

"At that time, did you ever think you and Angela would ever become a couple?"

"No." Randall laughed. "Come on! We were still children!"

"How about when you just became a teenager?"

"Well...yes. In the last few months of middle school, I realized that Angela and I could possibly become a couple, and that some people would eagerly consider us as such."

"When did you first really fall in love with her?"

A pause. "...why are you asking these questions?"

"Partly because I'm curious, and partly because I'm trying to ignore my pedalian agony."

Randall pondered this question for a long time. "I think it was when we first started high school. Alphonse told me he'd overheard Angela and her friends talking about me, of all people. He said that she confessed her love for me. Of course, I didn't believe him. In my mind, Angela and I were friends, no more. Imagine my surprise the next day when she told me directly that she loved me! And it was then that I really started to consider her as more than a friend."

"How did the Professor react?"

"He was as surprised as I was, of course. But he approved. He was a great friend. Oh! That's the rock, up ahead." He pointed to a large boulder.

Instead of following Randall, however, Tom stood still.

"That was a good story, I must say. Sadly, your research was somewhat incomplete."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"First of all, the real Randall would never be awake at 9:30 in the morning. Ever. Especially not after a tiring adventure. Also, your note to me arrived a few hours after you left Professor Layton's house. I doubt you could have reached the chasm, found the rock, inspect it, walk back, write a note, and get it to me in that time. Finally, and most damning of all...you stated that Hershel 'approved' of your relationship with Angela; but, if my memory is correct, you and Angela were a couple before he ever arrived in Stansbury."

Randall's fists were tightly clenched at this point. "So? What's your point?"

"My point is that you are a fraud, an impostor. You are not Randall Ascot. Who are you, and where is the real Randall?"

Randall smirked before pulling a Descole and suddenly turning into a hooded figure whose face was obscured.

"Greetings, Time Guardian. I must say, fantastic bit of deductive reasoning."

"Thank you. You still haven't answered my questions."

"As you wish." The figure chuckled. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Emissary. Of unknown intentions, of calculating mind, of profound intellect."

"And of prodigious ego," Tom muttered to himself.

"It is I who orchestrated the recent museum break-in. It is I who opened the Hellspawn portal."

"What do you hope to gain from all this?"

"My goal is the same as yours, Time Guardian."

"So it is you who is after the Oculus. Very well. Where is Randall? The real one, I mean."

The Emissary grinned. "He's inside that rock."

"What?"

"You heard me." As if on cue, the rock's exterior seemed to crack before breaking into a million tiny pieces, revealing a cell with a familiar face inside.

"Tom? Is that you?" Randall asked.

* * *

"Now, Tom, I will play a little game." The Emissary held out a remote. "When I press this button, this cell that holds your friend will start to shrink. It will continue shrinking over the course of an hour until it is a one-foot cube. You will notice there is a sensor on one of the bars. The cell will stop shrinking and break apart when the sensor only detects one person within a forty-foot radius, that person being the one inside the cell. Unless you wish to subject your friend here to a somewhat gruesome fate, I suggest you escape that radius very quickly."

"I'll leave you two alone now. But..." The Emissary pulled out a rapier. "If you run, I'll catch you."

Tom looked at the massive 1600-foot drop to his left. "So you've left me only one option..."

"Yes." The Emissary grinned and ran into the forest, stopping to say, "Make a break for it if you dare!"

Left alone, Tom and Randall both seemed to stare into empty space for a while.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"...just...let me die. It's my fault you're here anyway."

Tom sighed. "You know I can't do that. Besides, you will be vital if we are to stop this man."

"How!? You're the Time Guardian! You know the most about all of this!"

"Randall..." Tom began. "Have I told you how a Time Guardian is chosen?"

"No."

"Well, I owe you an explanation. You see, if a Time Guardian dies and has no children, someone else randomly becomes the Time Guardian. It's easy to tell when that happens: they glow blue and are knocked unconscious for several days, which is generally why Time Guardians marry and have children; so other people aren't really, really confused when that happens. Regardless, there will still be a Time Guardian. So it's not a great loss if I jump off the edge of this cliff here."

"Don't say that! That's not true!"

"Well, think logically. You're not replaceable, I technically am."

"But...the next Time Guardian won't be nearly as experienced as you! They won't know a thing!"

"Perhaps that is true. However, that fact shouldn't matter."

"How!?"

"I can't tell you that." Tom chuckled. "You'll figure it out on your own. And when you do, don't tell anyone else. However, inform everyone of my death and tell them about this...Emissary. Split into groups when the Hellspawn come. I have a feeling they're on their way."

"But-"

"Randall, my last wish is for you to stop protesting."

"But-"

"Run free, Randall." And with that, Tom calmly stepped to the very edge of the Cthlin Chasm...and took one step more.

* * *

**Cliffhanger! (Excuse the pun) Okay, things look pretty bad for humanity right now. The Emissary's on a roll, and Tom's side hasn't even come up with a cohesive plan yet. Without Tom, what will happen?**

**Please favorite, follow, review, or do some combination of the three! :D**

**-InstaGimp**


	18. Chapter 17

**Shimmering-Sky: WHY DO YOU KEEP THINKING THE FRIEND IS DIMITRI!? Well, he is kinda like Dimitri ("Dimitriesque"), so I suppose it's justifiable. And as for Tom...well...um...may he rest in peace. **

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Technically, Tom actually can die-Time Guardians aren't immortals. XD And I'm pretty sure there are a lot of better OCs out there (ex: Laura from "Professor Layton and the Book of Memory" by Master of Shiawase Punch). Still, thanks!**

**GoldGriffin: Hooray, you're still writing! I had no idea so many people actually liked Tom. I'm aware that perfect, immortal, etc. OCs are really boring, so I tried to make him as "human" as possible, even if currently it seems like Tom has no real flaws. Trust me, in the future, he will. Eh, Tom's a cool guy. Well, was.**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

The Impossible Conclusion

_"I'm sorry, Claire."_

_"No! Hershel! You can't leave me! Not now!"_

_The Professor, lying on the ground in his torn black coat and bloodstained orange shirt, smiled, coughing up more blood in the process. "Look on the bright side," he forced out, "The world is safe now."_

_"So!? I don't care! I-"_

_"Claire, listen to yourself. You're being irrational. In every war, sacrifices must be made. I suppose I'm just one of them."_

_"But-"_

_"Before I die, I want you to have this." He held up his hat, somehow still untouched. "I suppose I took good care of it, didn't I? To the end..."_

_"No! We can still-"_

_"You know as well as I do that you can't."_

_"He's right, Claire." Tom put a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing we can do." He turned to the man dying at his feet. "Thank you, Professor Layton. For everything you have done."_

_The Professor chuckled. "You're welcome."_

_As Claire sobbed, the Professor closed his eyes. He would never open them again._

* * *

"AHHHH!"

It took several seconds before Claire realized she was hollering to an empty room.

_Whew...just a bad dream, that's all._

Looking over at her companion's bed, she raised an eyebrow.

_Where's Tom?_

It was then that she noticed a note lying on the desk. Curious, she picked it up and read it.

_Claire:_

_I am going on a long journey. I expect that I won't return for some time. I've left you enough money to get by for a couple months; take up residence with my friend, the physics professor at Cardiff University. He, too, is helping me find the Oculus, though the others do not know of his involvement. Hopefully it will stay that way until I return. Best of luck to you. Good bye for now._

_-Tom_

"Well, this is sudden," she muttered to herself.

Since she barely had any possessions (she was technically dead), it took no time at all for her to arrive at Cardiff University. After several minutes of wandering around and asking for directions, she arrived at the office of the physics professor. Unsurprisingly, it reminded her of Hershel's office.

"Come in."

As Claire stepped in the room, she heard an uncannily familiar voice.

"Ah! Claire! Tom said you'd be arriving. I'm afraid I have a class to teach soon, but please, do make yourself comfortable."

As she turned, she found herself staring at the tired, haggard, yet smiling face of Dimitri Allen.

* * *

"Dimitri?" Claire gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Dimitri raised an eyebrow. "Teaching physics...?"

"No...I meant...how did you...?"

"Well, I was pardoned for my crimes since technically Clive was the true mastermind. Hershel managed to convince the authorities to let me go free. Afterwards, Cardiff University offered me this teaching position. Naturally, I was quite infamous for my involvement in the Future London incident, so they found me without much effort. I, being out of a job, accepted. And here I am."

"Oh...but...why did Tom tell me to come here?"

"Obviously, because you need somewhere to stay while he's gone. This was the best place he could think of." Dimitri glanced at the clock. "And I should really be going now. Unpack your things-I assume you don't have much-and should anyone drop by, hide yourself in the closet."

"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me everything?" Claire called out after him as he was leaving.

Dimitri chuckled. "Astute as always, Claire. I'll explain more when I come back."

The wooden door slammed shut.

* * *

"Randall?"

"..."

"Randall...?" A concerned Angela asked again. "You haven't eaten a bit of dinner. Or lunch, for that matter."

"Hm? Oh, sorry."

Angela sighed. "It's not your fault that-"

"Of course it is!" Randall exploded. "Don't you see? If I hadn't been exploring that damned chasm in the first place, I would never have been kidnapped!"

"And wherever else you went, you would have been taken as well. And perhaps the Emissary might have found a different hostage-like Luke, for instance. A determined enemy will always find a way."

"But-"

"Randall, the Emissary's plan took us by surprise. Tom didn't see it coming. You didn't, either. It's like Tom told us. This might become a war. And in war, there are always sacrifices. The best we can do is focus on stopping the Emissary. Tom told us to press on no matter what happened, and so we should honor his wishes."

Randall sighed. "I suppose. It's just...I feel so guilty. Tom could have lived if he'd just let me die...but..."

"If Tom made that decision, the Emissary would probably have killed him anyway. He wanted Tom to die."

"I guess..." Randall stood. "I'll probably go sleep now..."

Angela was about to protest, but was stopped by Henry. "Let him. He's been through a lot."

Randall nodded. "Thank you, Henry."

* * *

Randall lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, understandably unable to sleep. No matter how hard he tried to escape into the abyss, his mind would drag him out of it and replay his final words with Tom.

_"Well, I owe you an explanation. You see, if a Time Guardian dies and has no children, someone else randomly becomes the Time Guardian. It's easy to tell when that happens: they glow blue and are knocked unconscious for several days, which is generally why Time Guardians marry and have children; so other people aren't really, really confused when that happens. Regardless, there will still be a Time Guardian. So it's not a great loss if I jump off the edge of this cliff here."_

_"Don't say that! That's not true!"_

_"Well, think logically. You're not replaceable, I technically am."_

_"But...the next Time Guardian won't be nearly as experienced as you! They won't know a thing!"_

_"Perhaps that is true. However, that fact shouldn't matter."_

_"How!?"_

_"I can't tell you that." Tom chuckled. "You'll figure it out on your own. And when you do, don't tell anyone else. However, inform everyone of my death and tell them about this...Emissary. Split into groups when the Hellspawn come. I have a feeling they're on their way."_

_"But-"_

_"Randall, my last wish is for you to stop protesting."_

_"But-"_

_"Run free, Randall."_

And run he did. As Tom fell down the Cthlin Chasm, Randall sprinted out of his cage. Taking a moment to attempt to locate Tom's body (he failed), he headed back to town as quickly as possible. From there, it was a short journey back to Monte d'Or.

_What did he want me to figure out? _Randall wondered to himself. He focused on a specific section of dialogue.

_"The__ next Time Guardian won't be nearly as experienced as you! They won't know a thing!"_

_"Perhaps that is true. However, that fact shouldn't matter."_

_"How!?"_

_"I can't tell you that." Tom chuckled. "You'll figure it out on your own. And when you do, don't tell anyone else."_

Maybe experience didn't matter? ...No, that seemed unlikely. Randall didn't know too much about Time Guardians, but he was pretty sure not having a clue what you were supposed to do wouldn't help at all. Perhaps the Time Guardians were quick learners? Randall's brain was still (rightly) unconvinced.

There must be something he was missing. _Hershel was always better at this sort of thing. _Randall rubbed his head, which was now racking with pain from overexertion. _Let's start from the beginning..._

And it was there that he made a startling realization.

_If someone randomly glowed blue and turned unconscious for days, wouldn't that be breaking news? Or at least news of some sort? _Randall knew how much people loved hearing about the unknown and the unusual. There was a small chance the role of Time Guardian was transferred to some hermit out in Siberia, but it was minuscule._ Are people crazy enough to even live alone in Siberia?_

Yet Randall, and the rest of the world, had not heard a single word about such a highly unnatural event occurring. Which meant...

_Time Guardianship was never passed on._

Leading to the impossible conclusion that...

_Tom's still alive._

* * *

**NO WAY! NO WAY! YES, THERE MIGHT BE SOME HOLES IN RANDALL'S LOGIC! HE'S RANDALL, SO IT'S UNDERSTANDABLE, RIGHT? AND WHY IS THIS ALL CAPS ANYWAY?**

**Claire and Dimitri might not appear for a while after next chapter; I haven't decided. Their role is extremely important; the reason for this will be revealed. in due time, my friend, in due time.**

**Please follow, favorite, and review! :D**

**-WINstaGimp**


	19. Chapter 18

**Shimmering-Sky: The way I interpreted your review, you thought Tom's friend was Dimitri because the chapter said it was Dimitri...? The "this" is kind of obscure. And I know Randall's not stupid; his logic is pretty decent. Though I can't say whether Claire's dream will become reality...that would be giving away too much.**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: -flails arms in the air as well- jelly spaghetti! Oh, and thanks for your continued support.**

**RavenGoesToHeaven: Maybe it's foreshadowing, maybe it's not! It wasn't really a denial rant...more like stating Randall's logic is possibly flawed, should anyone type a review pointing out all the little errors in it. And no, I'm not taking Claire's appearances away, she just won't be appearing for a while.**

**This chapter is another letter chapter! *reader groans* Hooray! I probably/definitely should have put this together with Chapter Nineteen, but I suck at writing, so I don't care. Enjoy! Or don't. Next chapter, we enter a new part of the story.**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Randall's Letter

_To everyone:_

_I bear news of a most tragic and untimely demise._

_Yesterday, shortly after leaving Hershel's house, I decided to explore the Cthlin Chasm, a location supposedly of no historical significance whatsoever. As I was on my way through the woods to reach said location, I was restrained and blacked out, probably due to chloroform or some substance of that nature. _

_When I awoke, I was in a tiny little cage, with a sort of barrier around it. Shortly after, the barrier dissipated, revealing Tom, who apparently had come to rescue me, and a hooded figure. The events that follow I will never forget for the rest of my life._

_"Now, Tom, I will play a little game." As he said this, the hooded figure pulled out a rectangular device with a single button. "When I press this button, this cell that holds your friend will start to shrink. It will continue shrinking over the course of an hour until it is a one-foot cube. You will notice there is a sensor on one of the bars. The cell will stop shrinking and break apart when the sensor only detects one person within a forty-foot radius, that person being the one inside the cell. Unless you wish to subject your friend here to a somewhat gruesome fate, I suggest you escape that radius very quickly."_

_I think it was then that both Tom and I realized what the Emissary was planning. _

_"Tom?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"...just...let me die. It's my fault you're here anyway." I truly did not wish to die, but there was no choice._

_Tom sighed. "You know I can't do that. Besides, you will be vital if we are to stop this man."_

_"How!?" I asked. "You're the Time Guardian! You know the most about all of this!"_

_"Randall...have I told you how a Time Guardian is chosen?" Tom still stayed unnaturally calm for someone who was about to either die or watch his friend die._

_"No."_

_"Well, I owe you an explanation. You see, if a Time Guardian dies and has no children, someone else randomly becomes the Time Guardian. It's easy to tell when that happens: they glow blue and are knocked unconscious for several days, which is generally why Time Guardians marry and have children; so other people aren't really, really confused when that happens. Regardless, there will still be a Time Guardian. So it's not a great loss if I jump off the edge of this cliff here."_

_Tom's last instructions to me were to tell all of you of his death and of the hooded figure, called the Emissary. He also stated to divide ourselves into our groups, as the Hellspawn are on the way. We need to find the Oculus, and we need to eliminate this threat to the safety of the world. We may even be able to use the Oculus to stop this threat._

_Unfortunately, that may require having to hurt or kill a human or Hellspawn or two. I know the adults will not have as much of a problem as the children doing so, but I fear that children's minds may not react positively to such traumatic scenes. If any of you wish to back out of this now, please do. _

_To everyone that remains, let us all meet at the Ledore Mansion in Monte d'Or. I have made a startling discovery that I believe will be of paramount importance._

_And finally, I quote he who still lives on in our minds:_

_Rei' sina cante._

_-Randall_


	20. Chapter 19

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Yeah, not an easy letter to write. And as for your predictions of character death...DEATH IS GOOD. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA ok that's not true. But yes, suffice to say some of our heroes might not survive...**

**RavenGoesToHeaven: Eh, Randall tried to find Tom's body right after Tom jumped and failed. I'm pretty sure Tom didn't "hold on to a ledge" or anything like that. The Cthlin Chasm is a sheer drop, after all. Surviving the fall isn't nearly as easy as that! AND WHY DOES EVERYONE BET HINT COINS**

**Shimmering-Sky: Don't worry. That happens to everyone. Confusion is the spice of life :/ I think.**

**So this chapter is really...interesting, to say the least. I don't know what else to say about it. Oh, and the Hellspawn cross over, too. The second part of the story ends here, and part three begins. The Layton Crew finally split into groups and try to stop the Emissary from reaching the Oculus; but what does the Emissary know that they don't? Lots of things, of course. Lots of important things.**

**Fun times! Enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

The First Link in the Chain

"Professor, there's a letter for you. It's from Randall." Rosa handed the Professor a plain white envelope with a seal that he instantly recognized as Randall's.

"Hm?" Professor Layton opened the envelope and unfolded the message inside.

Nothing could have prepared him for what it said.

* * *

The Professor put down the letter in shock.

Despite all his emotional agony, he was still willing to help Tom, perhaps as a means of escaping said agony. After all, Tom happened to understand him extremely well. He even understood the Professor's relationship with...

No. He couldn't. For the sake of his friends, he had to stay strong. Tom wanted him to overcome his depression, so he would.

Opening a desk drawer, he reached in and pulled out a sheet of paper. On it were Tom's words, said to him what seemed like years ago:

_The road is long. The road is not kind._

_To traverse it requires a sound and clear mind._

_It takes one who pushes himself to go far;_

_To go on, no matter how tired you are._

_That used to be you, but you have fallen so._

_From so high above to so down below._

_Some reasons were given, but in fact _au contraire_,_

_There was one real reason: the passing of Claire._

_Since then your life has never been quite the same._

_Friends come, then leave as fast as they came._

_Now you think of her and lament that she's gone,_

_But I think she'd want you to get up, dust yourself off,_

_And go on._

As he read Tom's words, he found that Tom was a man whom he truly respected. Tom was efficient, sharp, logical, and compassionate all at once, tragically proven by his sacrifice to save Randall's life. His initial directness told the Professor that he was a man of action and method, not empty words. The Professor's eyes flashed with determination he hadn't felt in a long time. _If he didn't live to accomplish his goal, I'll do it for him. _He'd find the Oculus, and he'd stop the Emissary. No matter what it might take. No matter how long it might take. No matter where it might take him.

And in that moment, with his newfound resolve, he was no longer the Professor Layton who Flora ran from, who sat in his office, who wallowed in self-pity.

He was the old Professor, the one who solved mysteries no one else could, the one who was as kind as he was calm and composed, the one who valued all humans instead of just one.

The one that everybody knew.

_"It's not a great loss if I jump off this cliff here..."_

"How wrong you were," the Professor murmured to himself. _You think differently of people when they're no longer with you. _He stood. "I think I'll get Clive and Bronev first..."

_I will see things through for you, Tom. To the very end._

Donning his top hat, he strode outside, got into his Laytonmobile, and drove off to his destination.

* * *

"You're late," Randall stated simply as he escorted his friend, Clive, and Bronev to the living room.

The Professor briefly considered inquiring as to why Randall suddenly seemed less lively, but dispelled the thought after he remembered what had happened. Randall was probably quite shaken by Tom's death-and who could blame him?

Upon arriving in the living room, Professor Layton saw everyone that Tom had met: Luke, the Black Ravens (many of which were simply lying on the carpet floor, fascinated by the texture), the Barde siblings (sharp observation skills noted that Arianna was sitting a tad closer to Luke than normal people might consider comfortable), Emmy, Flora, and Descole. Looking to the other side of the room, he saw Angela next to a large screen holding a tiny remote.

"Randall, what is-"

"Shh, Hershel." Randall pointed to the sofa and chairs everyone else was sitting on. "Take a seat."

Hershel nodded and decided to sit away from everyone else. Thankfully, if anyone noticed this odd behavior, they didn't show it. Clive and Bronev chose seats closer to the others.

"I've gathered you all here today to show you a very interesting photograph I took at the Nautilus Chamber of Akbadain." At Randall's request, Angela clicked a button on her remote, showing a massive wall of nothing but ancient characters arranged in star figures of varying sizes and shapes.

"At first sight, this looks like nothing more than a unique design. However, there is nothing like this anywhere else in the Nautilus Chamber, or indeed anywhere in the Akbadain ruins. Furthermore, in the Book of the Arcane, there is an entry on 'stars'...however, it seems to depict the Nautilus Chamber and not any celestial objects or beings. On top of that, the text beneath the picture links to 'message', and looking that word up leads to the word 'hidden', implying that this star-shaped pattern seems to be a code of some sort."

"It is quite simple to crack part of the message. The outer star has 133 points, and it turns out this is simply a Caesar shift of 133. The Azran alphabet has 264 letters, so translating the outer star took quite a long time. In the end, it gives a message to be read counterclockwise. Translated, it gives the following:"

Angela pressed the button again, and a few lines of text appeared.

**The orb is what protects us.**

**Gives us light.**

**Repels the dark.**

**May it never be lost among the shadows.**

**But should it be so, **

**Then we will tell how to summon it.**

**There is a key, to set the machine free.**

**A machine, to bring the orb home.**

**An orb, to protect the world from Chaos.**

**A realm which will bring a storm.**

**A storm which will bring disaster.**

**A disaster which will end everything.**

"It would seem that simply exploring every single location on the planet continually for an extended period of time is most definitely not going to work. I think Tom knew this as well, otherwise he would have asked many, many more people to assist him in finding such an elusive object. This passage is quite illuminating and indicates perhaps we should not be searching for the Oculus directly..."

"But that's enough for today. We should probably split into groups, now, before the Hellspawn cross over. Figure out lodgings by yourselves-"

"Wait," interrupted Clive. "Tom's letter mentioned that you and your wife were to stay in Monte d'Or. However, as Tom is no longer with us to provide instructions for you, perhaps it would be better to join a group immediately."

Randall pondered this point. "True. Alright then, we will go with your group."

It was nighttime before everything was truly sorted out. As friends and enemies alike shook hands and left the mansion, far away another meeting with darker purpose finished as well.

* * *

Inimae stared at the Hellspawn portal in front of him. Freedom was so close. Chaos was imminent.

"Ready, Oredul?"

"As always, Daemonlord."

The two glided through the dimensional rift, spotting the Emissary on the other side.

"You look rather different. Perhaps my world causes your body to adapt?"

It was true. The Hellspawn had undergone a dramatic transformation, turning from hideous beasts and gargoyle-esque scourges into creatures that closely resembled what humans believed dragons looked like.

The Emissary grinned. "Welcome back to Earth."

As the Hellspawn shook hands with the Emissary, even the stars themselves seemed to shudder and flicker in fear.

* * *

**THE END OF PART TWO! Next chapter may take a while. Dunno why, it just will.**

**Favorite, Follow, Review! Thanks for all your support! Or lack thereof.**


	21. Chapter 20

**Part Three is here! So, in the last chapter, we've found something truly incredible on a wall of the Nautilus Chamber of Akbadain. Another way to reach the Oculus? And that's only a tiny part of the message! Who knows what else it might contain?**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: BATTLES! I LIEK BATTLES! Well, the puzzle battle in Unwound Future was really easy, but oh well. The music was good. And I miss Tom too! *sniff* oh well. I killed him, didn't I? I REGRET NOTHING**

**Shimmering-Sky: Nothing is really any good right now, is it? And no, the story won't be over THAT soon. I'm gonna torture our heroes for a good while longer :D call me crazy.**

**Some people have told me that the Azran civilization didn't exist many thousand years ago, but over a million years ago...seriously, it's not that big of a deal. Don't act like it is. As long as it was a really long time ago, we're good.**

**I replayed Professor Layton and the Curious Village, and I've realized something really weird:**

**So the whole idea behind the village was to find someone worthy enough to take care of the Baron's daughter...but there was a friend who ran the entire village and built perfectly humanlike robots to protect said daughter...**

**I'm pretty sure that counts as worthy! But instead, the guy sits in a dingy room in the basement of a run-down tower, hanging out with nothing but robots, even after Flora's out of St. Mystere. I just don't understand :/**

**Eh, just my thoughts. Enjoy the chapter! The title is a reference to Sonic 06, one of the most overhated games in history IMO...though it was indeed bad. But "His World" and its variations are amazing! Especially Solaris's Phase 2 Music. Probably the most epic final boss music ever...nah, Bravely Default.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty

The Flames of Disaster

"Rosa," Professor Layton called out, "Where are the extra mattresses?"

The housekeeper shrugged. "Probably stuffed inside the attic or some closet. All I know is that we have them."

Though Rosa was technically in charge of Gressenheller's offices, the other staff members were so neat and tidy that she often found herself with very little to do. As such, she began working in the evenings at Professor Layton's home, which, needless to say, provided a far greater challenge.

"Thank you, Rosa." The Professor sighed. _Who knows where to find them? I don't. _

"I'll be off now, Professor. There's dinner on the table-" Rosa stopped when she saw the three kids trailing the Professor.

"Hello, Rosa!" Luke chirped._  
_

Rosa laughed. "I suppose I'll make some more food, then."

* * *

One enormous meal and goodbye to Rosa later, the four found themselves extremely tired. But before they could sleep...

"Professor, your home is so..."

"Disorganized?"

"...yes, that's the term."

...they had to find beds for Arianna and Tony first. Thankfully the Professor didn't throw away Luke's old bed-he wasn't even sure if there were three more beds in the house.

"I'm terribly sorry, Arianna and Tony. Do you mind checking the attic? I'm sure there's at least one bed there. In the meantime..." The Professor stared at the massive pile of junk consisting of everything found in the downstairs closets. "I'll find blankets and pillows."

Arianna nodded. "No problem."

After he reached the entrance to the attic with his sister, Tony grinned. "Now, sis, Imma go that way and search the closet. You can go to the attic by yourself-"

Arianna shuddered. "Tony, you know how much I hate the dark! Why-"

"Too bad, sis!" Tony sprinted away and down the hall. "Deal with it!"

Arianna pouted, turning her attention to the small trapdoor leading to the attic. _I'll show him! _She climbed up the ladder and opened the hatch._  
_

Within seconds, a piercing scream echoed through the Layton residence.

* * *

"So, Professor, what's been going on lately?" Luke asked.

"Nothing...at all."

"Really? You seem much quieter than before, Professor. When I used to be here you would always talk about how to be a gentleman, give me some mind boggling puzzles I couldn't solve, and lots of Laytonesque things." Luke borrowed this term from Emmy, believing that the term itself was Laytonesque: mysterious, elegant, and simply indescribable by any other word.

"People change," the Professor stated simply.

Before Luke could reply, they heard a scream from above them.

"Arianna!" Luke cried. In typical Luke fashion, he raced up the stairs, nearly tripping numerous times.

It didn't take long before he located his friend, quivering next to the ladder, looking deathly pale.

"H-Help! There are monsters!"

"What monsters?"

"I f-felt one!" Arianna trembled. "My finger touched it!"

"What did it look like?"

"It was d-dark, so I-I couldn't see it..."

"It'll be fine," Luke assured her. "I don't think what you found was a monster..." He quickly ran back downstairs to get a flashlight before entering the attic. "C'mon, Arianna! It's safe!"

"Fine," Arianna said. "But..."

"Hm?"

"...I'm scared..." Arianna admitted, a blush on her cheeks.

"No need to be scared!" Luke declared. "I'm here, remember?"

Arianna's cheeks turned even redder as she climbed the ladder.

"Here, I'll hold your hand." Luke took Arianna's hand in his, causing Arianna's blush to intensify, and led her through the attic.

"Ahh!" Arianna screamed again.

"What is it!?"

"T-The monster's here!"

Luke shone the flashlight in Arianna's direction.

"Arianna, is this the same monster as before?"

"Yes!" Arianna nodded furiously.

"It's a cobweb..."

"Oh..."

Luke burst into laughter. "S-So...all of this...because you were scared a cobweb?"

"It was scary, okay!?" Arianna said defensively, attempting to hide her embarrassment.

"Well, there's a mattress." Luke pointed to a corner of the attic. "Let's take it to the Professor."

"Yes, let's leave."

"Be sure not to run into any monsters," Luke teased.

"Shut up!"

* * *

The Emissary stared at the man bound to the chair, who was doing his best to retain a calm expression despite what he'd just been subjected to.

"Would you like to tell me what you know now?"

"I-I told you, I know nothing about the Akbadain Cipher!"

"That's a shame." The Emissary held up a laptop. "May I access your computer and examine your files? I'm sure I'll find something there."

"Why you bastard! You can't even access it without the password-"

The Emissary put a finger to the man's forehead.

"And that," the Emissary said, "is what you are going to tell me."

"I'll never-"

"Oredul? You know what to do."

The Hellspawn stepped forward. "You'd do best to comply. Otherwise, I might have to do more of this!" the demon cackled. He summoned a ball of malevolent Hellfire between his claws. "This won't kill you...unless I make it." The sphere hovered around its unfortunate victim before it was literally absorbed into his body, causing the man to scream in agony.

The foreign Chaos magic flowed through his veins, causing internal disintegration and the sensation that he was burning from the inside out (and indeed, he was). It corrupted his mind, implanting terrifying visions of destruction.

"Will you give us the password now?"

"Yes! Yes I will! Just make it stop!"

On cue, the pain subsided.

"It's 'amaunet.'"

"Verify it, would you?" The Emissary asked an agent.

"Right away!" The man typed the word in. Seconds later, he gave a thumbs-up. "It's correct."

"Excellent." The Emissary turned back to the man, who quivered in fear. "Pathetic."

"W-What are you going to do now? I gave you what you wanted already!"

"Thanks. I'll be taking your computer, too. And..." The Emissary looked at Oredul, then turned back to the man in the chair. "What is it they say? 'Dust to dust'?"

Oredul smashed his claws together. Immediately, the man burst into flame. His shrieks of agony were drowned out by the crackle of the Hellfire as it slowly burned him. The nightmarish hallucinations returned in full force, adding to his suffering.

With a final, drawn out scream, the man slumped, the flames still scorching his corpse.

There was a moment of silence, then the Emissary said, "So he really does have information."

"How do you know?"

"His password."

"'Amaunet'? The Egyptian goddess? What does she have to do with Azran ruins?"

"Do you know what her name means?"

"No, what is it?"

The Emissary smiled. "That which is concealed."

* * *

**Fire is going to be a pretty big motif in this story, as Hellspawn...Hell...fire...yeah. Lots of fire. So who was that poor guy? Why did the Emissary need him? And what is the full extent of the powers of the Hellspawn? It just occurred to me that the Hellspawn are kinda like the Golems...super powerful race, massacred some lesser beings, got sealed away, and returned to destroy once more. And they eventually were stopped by noble sacrifices.**

**Please follow, favorite, or review! Or all three! I'm not getting very much of any...T_T**


	22. Chapter 21

**Shimmering-Sky: Yes, Bravely Default. It's such an incredible game (and of course I ship Tiz and Agnes), and the battle system is really cool. The final boss theme is amazing. Better than Last Specter's, and we all know how awesome that one is. Thanks for the praise!**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: Arianna and Luke make a much better couple than Flora and Luke. Flora didn't kiss him, and besides, they're practically family. Luke would basically be committing incest. And yeah, poor guy...**

**o'sullivan: Tom has got to be alive! He HAS to be! *sniff* thanks for your kind words, but I don't like thinking of how I murdered my own character D:**

**I have a lot planned for this story, so I'm not sure how many more chapters there are...but I have the main events of the plot already, fitting them together is the hard part.**

**Enjoy Chapter 21! **

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One

The Tension Builds

"We've found the files you wanted on that computer, Emissary. Would you like to-"

The Emissary looked up. "Bring it here. Oh, and the Book of the Arcane as well."

"Of course." The aide bowed and left the room. Soon, he returned with a laptop and worn tome tucked under his arm. He placed it on the Emissary's desk. "Here you go."

"Thank you. You're dismissed."

With another bow, the man walked out, leaving the requested items behind.

Alone, the Emissary smirked. "Let's see what we have here..."

* * *

"Want to watch the news today, Professor?" Luke inquired. Despite it already being late in the morning, Arianna and Tony were still quietly snoozing. It was imperative that Arianna got enough sleep, as her previous illness left her a little less energized than before, requiring more rest to compensate.

The Professor nodded. "I have little else to do anyway."

Luke grabbed the television remote and turned the television on, only to sigh as a cheesy advertisement showed itself onscreen. Sadly, that was only the first of many.

After sitting through what seemed like a torrent of terrible commercials, the actual program resumed.

"And now for some tragic news. Last night, renowned archaeologist Hector N. Wells was found dead in his home in a most unusual way. His body was almost completely burned through, only his bones and a few scraps of flesh remaining intact. It appears that he was deliberately set on fire and left to burn."

Luke stared at the screen in utter horror. The Professor managed to keep a straight face, if only for a moment.

"Nothing of value was taken by the murderer except for Mr. Wells's laptop. Everything else was untouched. So far the police have found several footprints. One set was made by flat-soled shoes with no distinguishing features. The other set is much more bizarre, resembling the feet of no known organism. According to one biologist, the marks resembled those of a lizard, except they were far too big to have been created by one and had longer talons. Wells was-"

"Turn the television off, please." The Professor's voice was noticeably shaky.

Luke looked askance at the man he'd always imagined to be stoic under almost all conditions, but obliged. "Professor...did you know Wells?"

"Yes, I knew Hector quite well. He was the leading expert on the Azran, knowing more about them than anyone, possibly even Bronev. Why Targent didn't kidnap him is a mystery, though it is true he conducted much of his work in secret. He wouldn't share his knowledge of the Azran under any circumstances, though he would converse with others on any other archaeological subject. All of his information regarding the Azran was stored on his laptop. Many saw his aloofness as antisociality, but truth be told he was a kind and friendly man...one who most certainly did not deserve a fate such as this..."

"Do you think that whoever...did this to him wanted his research on the Azran? They took his laptop specifically."

"I believe that is indeed the case, but there remains the motive. Why would anyone ever need that much information about the Azran, a civilization long gone? Quite puzzling..."

"What about-" Luke stopped as he saw the Professor's calm expression, instantly recognizing it as Professor Layton's "thinking face." Whenever he put on this expression, he would make his best, most impressive deductions.

_What's he come up with this time?_

* * *

Clive, Randall, Angela, and Flora in Ledore Mansion had similar reactions to the mystery-solving duo in the Professor's smaller house. Unsurprisingly, the Black Ravens chose to stay in Misthallery (not that the mansion could have accommodated that many people anyway).

Randall swore. "Who the hell would do that to anyone?" Hector was someone he respected, if only because he was an incredible archaeologist.

Angela was on the verge of tears.

Clive and Flora both wore horrified expressions.

Only Henry betrayed no emotion, and he needed a great deal of composure to do it.

"Those footprints..." Henry muttered. "What made them?"

"I don't know. Seems like a dragon or something like that," Flora said.

Clive resisted the urge to slap himself. "Flora, dragons don't exist."

"How do you know?" Flora snapped.

Part of Clive was surprised at this rudeness. Then he remembered that she was probably still angry that he kidnapped her and held her as hostage. _That's PROBABLY the reason. And by probably I mean almost definitely. _"You're right," Clive said. "I don't."

Flora was taken aback. What happened to the Clive she knew and hated?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Clive said, "I know you think I'm still that insane, heartless man who kidnapped you, but trust me, I've-"

"No," Flora interrupted. "I'm not going to trust you."

Any further attempts at conversing were quickly shot down. Clive sighed. _So far, no progress. Maybe one day...she'll forgive me. _"Do you think the Professor knows about this yet?"

"You mean Hershel?" Randall shrugged. "I don't know, actually. Maybe he watches the news. Probably not, though."

* * *

The final group had the hardest time choosing where to stay. Descole would never let Bronev enter his home, Bronev didn't have a home, and Emmy's home in St. Mystere was tiny. In the end, Bronev had to call upon Leonard Bloom and his wife Hanna (Emmy shuddered when she heard the name) for help. Bloom, ever loyal, agreed to provide rooms immediately, especially after he was told what had happened. Though an unlikely story, the fact that Bronev told it was all Bloom needed. And, of course, Bronev had some private special requests as well...

"Bloom, I also need you to do two more things for me."

"What?"

"First, find anything you can regarding this picture." Bronev held out Randall's photograph of the mysterious Akbadain inscription. "What it is, any relevant facts, the usual."

"No problem. What else?"

"I need you to keep track of Hershel Layton."

Bloom raised an eyebrow. "Your son, you mean?"

"How did you-"

"Emmy told me shortly after you were arrested."

Bronev sighed. "Yes. My son. Make sure he's safe, and make sure he doesn't find out that I told you to follow him..."

"Why?"

"Because you heard him say it himself. He could never consider me his father. I can try to protect him, but he'll never acknowledge me as his father. This way, I can watch over him."

"Alright." Bloom paused. "I think you would have been a fine parent. He'll forgive you one day."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know these things much better than you do, leader." Bloom looked down at the photograph. "Now, where was this picture taken?"

"The Akbadain ruins."

"Oh. Almost reminds you of our glory days, doesn't it?"

"I wouldn't call it glory."

"Neither would I. Targent really should never have existed..."

Bronev, remembering all that Targent took away from him, could only nod.

"If I may ask, how did you and Hanna-"

"That's a long story." Bloom sighed. "I'll tell you sooner or later. You should probably eat now. I can tell you're famished."

* * *

"Did you hear about the death of Hector Wells?"

"Yes. He told me that it might happen, and he was right...sadly."

"It seems very brutal."

"It IS very brutal."

"Well, yes."

"All the same, we've got work to do."

"I don't think we're going to be able to build an impossible machine, no matter how much work we do."

"Remember who we're dealing with. It is most certainly possible."

There was a moment of silence. "I suppose. How long do we have?"

"Three weeks at most. Almost certainly less."

Another moment of silence.

"Let's get to work."

* * *

**I've got nothing to say, really. Funny.**

**Please follow, favorite, and review.**


	23. Chapter 22

**BOK CHOI**

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: I don't know why you keep thinking dark thoughts...maybe for the same reason I think them? XD and no, I didn't forget about Claire. Not at all.**

**Shimmering-Sky: I'll give you a hint: it's diabolically obvious once you figure it out. As in, it will all click together once I reveal what they're talking about. And yes, Tiz/Agnes is fantastic.**

**Chapter 22: First off, if any of you haven't read _Catch-22_ yet, it's an amazing and rather funny book. A real classic. If any of you haven't even HEARD of it...um...where have you been?**

**Anyway...in short, a Hellspawn attacks and Descole has to stop it. He does. With a little help.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sacred Sword

"You two unpack first. I need to talk to Bloom first," Bronev said.

Emmy nodded, while Descole simply ignored the man and trudged up the stairs.

Suddenly, the loud slam of a door rang echoed through the house, startling everyone, even Hanna (who was in the kitchen).

Emmy and Bronev looked at each other. "I'll check on him," Emmy said. She rushed to Descole's designated room and knocked on the door. "Descole?" The word still seemed foreign when used nicely. "Open the door."

"Why the bloody hell should I?" Descole retorted.

_It seems even Descole swears! I learn something new every day_, Emmy thought to herself. "I want to talk to you."

The door slowly creaked open to reveal an apparently angry Descole (judging by the lower half of his face-he always kept his mask on). "You better make this quick," he grumbled.

Emmy walked in. "What's wrong, Descole?"

"Nothing! At all!" Descole gritted his teeth.

"I can tell something is."

"I'm telling you, it's nothing!"

"Well, I don't believe you."

"Maybe you should!"

"Descole, why don't you just-"

"FINE!" Descole spat. "You know what's wrong!? You! And your uncle!"

"What!?" Emmy retorted indignantly. "You're throwing a tantrum because we're in the same house as you? Can't I trust you to behave and not cause trouble everywhere you go?"

At this, Descole fell quiet.

"There. See, being sensible isn't so-"

"You're one to talk about _trust_, Altava." Descole was shaking. "Not even Hershel can trust _you._"_  
_

Now it was Emmy's turn to fall silent.

"Do you know how much you hurt him, Altava?" Descole sneered. "He saw you as more than an assistant. You were his equal. And then you turned out to be nothing more than a _pawn_...for _Targent_," Descole hissed.

"Just remember, Altava...just because _Hershel _forgave you...doesn't mean _I _will."_  
_

"And why the hell would I care about your _forgiveness?_ This is between me and the Professor!"

"Of course you wouldn't care about my forgiveness. Since when have you cared about _anything?_" Descole scowled. "Now GET OUT!"

Before Emmy could reply, she was pushed out of the room and the door slammed shut in her face.

* * *

"Where are you going, Descole?" Bronev asked.

"Out."

"Where, exactly?"

"Out."

Bronev sighed. "Suit yourself. Be back for dinner."

"I'll get dinner myself," Descole responded curtly. The front door shut with a bang.

Descole had decided he would dress as Desmond Sycamore today-it was his most natural appearance, since it was technically himself. Walking down the street, he thought to himself, having nothing else to do.

_Trust. So many things to so many different people._

_You can trust someone to get a job done. You can trust a friend. You can trust a colleague. You can trust your family. Or you should be able to..._

Descole gritted his teeth as he remembered just whom his family consisted of.

_To some, trust means reliance, friendship, and safety. To others, trust means you are counting on someone else. To the purely objective, trusting someone means what they tell you is true. Some people cannot afford to trust anyone. _

_And for my brother?_

_Trust is not so complicated: everyone is a good, trustworthy human being in his mind. And along comes _Altava_..._

_Claire devastated Hershel, but Altava...she was life's way of confirming his fate of loneliness, of teaching him the lesson he'd never properly learned:_

_Trust no one._

_Because no one deserves your trust, brother._

_Not even me._

And at this thought, Descole no longer particularly desired to eat much of anything.

A scream from a nearby woman shook him out of his pensive mood.

"Look! Up there!" The other pedestrians looked and gasped.

A looming figure was perched atop Big Ben, staring down at the pitiful city beneath its feet. _Pathetic creatures...why did Inimae send me for such a trivial task?_

_Well, making a statement will be quite easy._

Yawning, it spread its dragonlike wings and swooped down, terrifying the populace.

"I'm quite hungry..." it whispered maliciously. "I think I could use a _snack!_" Grabbing a man, it casually consumed him in one bite.

Only Descole seemed to be impassive as he watched the disturbing scene. But what happened next managed to startle him.

A sword hilt was forced into his palm. "You know what to do," someone whispered into his ear. "This sword is...special." Whipping his head around, Descole saw no one. _What the hell?_

Meanwhile, the demon was still taunting the defenseless humans. "Mm...I'm still _hungry_...who's next?"

"Me."

The demon turned to face Descole, sword in hand, wearing his usual mask-and-cape outfit.

"It's quite pathetic how you threaten these people who can't even defend themselves. A wolf who spends all day scaring sheep is not very productive! Why don't you fight someone your own level for a change?" Descole idly traced patterns in the air with his rapier.

A raspy chuckle was elicited. "You humans amuse me. You think you're on my level? Why, I could easily roast you in a split second...like this!" The Hellspawn opened its jaws and torrents of flame spewed out.

However, Descole's sword glowed reddish-purple, absorbing all of the Hellfire and leaving Descole untouched.

"What is this sorcery!?" The demon shrieked.

Descole gave a sound of approval. "Hm. So that's what it does."

* * *

"It is of no importance. My business does not concern you, human!" The great beast flew up and over a nearby building, Descole following him on the ground.

The demon was burning a massive trail of destruction, incinerating stores, roads, and basically anything solid (or liquid, for that matter).

Finally, in the middle of a circle of buildings, the demon landed in front of its pursuer.

"Fine, insolent rat," the demon hissed. "If you truly wish for an early demise, then I will be happy to oblige!"

A large circle of fire was created around the area.

_This is a duel, _Descole realized. _To the death._

_He can't hit me with fire attacks, meaning he'll have to use his claws, but on the other hand I don't know how strong this sword is...it looks very old...hopefully it doesn't break._

Descole's thoughts were rudely interrupted by a large claw attempting to slash through his entire body. Descole leapt backwards to dodge it, but this proved to be not such a great idea as more and more slashes followed. Descole was already on the defensive, and he hadn't even gotten a single hit in yet.

Finally, the Hellspawn overcommitted to a swipe and Descole capitalized, darting around the Hellspawn and forcing the Hellspawn to react to his blows rather than vice versa.

Unfortunately, the Hellspawn proved to be a much nimbler fighter than he'd thought.

Descole lunged at the demon, who merely sidestepped and tried to grab Descole's leg as he flew by. Luckily, Descole moved his leg just in time.

The demon's next blow was swiftly parried, and Descole twisted, breaking the deadlock and landing a blow on the demon's wing.

But when Descole tried to further weaken the already crippled wing, the demon's claw slashed at Descole's shoulder, connecting and causing a good deal of pain.

_My injuries are hindering me much more than his are hindering him...I have to wait for a good opportunity; rushing will only get me hit._

Descole thus stayed slightly farther away from the Hellspawn, waiting for the attack.

The Hellspawn charged at Descole, clearly with the intention of ending the fight immediately. _He must be more weakened than he looks._

Descole jumped out of the way and then swiftly punctured the demon's other wing.

What he didn't expect, however, was the demon to turn back around at inhuman speed (which made sense, since it technically wasn't human) and land a heavy blow on his ribcage. Descole winced.

_This isn't working...I have to come up with a different plan, and it has to work quickly!_

With no other plan in sight, Descole did the one thing he was always good at: deceive the enemy.

He dropped to his knees, panting, his back slumped.

"What's the matter?" The Hellspawn sneered. "Tired already?"

"N-no," Descole wheezed.

"A pity. I was almost enjoying our little battle. But, sadly for you, this is where it ends!" The demon raised his claw and attempted to crush Descole.

But Descole, who, of course, was merely pretending to be weary, dashed forwards to dodge the finishing blow.

The demon didn't even have time to voice its surprise before it was stabbed in the chest. Blood gushed out.

_Hm. Even demons have hearts, _Descole mused. _Not particularly good ones, but still. _His body then realized how exhausted it was (his fatigue was not completely fake), and he collapsed.

Taking one last look at his surroundings, Descole stopped and stared in horror.

The flames had spread everywhere. Everywhere around him, there was fire. In the distance he could make out the noise of a siren.

Then his world, the flames, the agony of broken bones, the smoke, all faded to black.

* * *

**Finally, yo. I got dis chapter out. Yore welcome. I suck at writing battle scenes. **

**Please follow, favorite, and review, and all that jazz. It helps me a lot.**


	24. Chapter 23

**Hollyshadow the medicine cat: No, nothing happy will ever happen. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Don't worry. Things will turn out for the better...eventually...:D But you have to wait!**

**Guest: Well, since it's similar to my plot, it has to be good XD no just kidding. One tip I can give you is never let your story become as convoluted as this one. As for destroying mankind, well, it's fun. To me at least. To the readers...not so much.**

**Shimmering-Sky: Descole's gonna burn unless someone gets him outta there...FORESHADOWING PERHAPS? HMMMMM...I WONDER! And those firefighters have their work cut out for them...thanks for the praise! I didn't think I did a great job, but thanks :D**

**Chapter 23: This chapter serves no real purpose. Well, its composition is 80% filler and 20% trash, so enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three

Of Plain Truths and Hidden Secrets

_"Am I dead?" Descole questioned the inky blackness around him. "Where am I?"_

_The more steps Descole took, the less distance he seemed to cover. There was nothing and no one around him, just darkness._

_He could hear his brother's voice from many years ago, so full of life and excitement. He could hear his faithful servant Raymond. But louder seemed to be the silence that was omnipresent._

_"I suppose it goes to show," Descole murmured, "that memories are, after all, only memories. That they really can't help you, in the end."_

"Descole!"

_"So I suppose this is how it ends for me. No sense of direction, no sense of purpose, no sense of anything, really-and all alone..."_

"DESCOLE!"

* * *

Descole, surprised by the shout, abruptly sat up before experiencing a sharp pain in his arm and leg and everywhere else and falling back onto the bed he was in.

_Wait...I'm in a bed?_

Eyes adjusting to the bright light, he instantly realized where he was.

"Oh! Descole! You're awake!"

...and who was sitting by his bed.

"...So..." Descole grumbled, "why am I in a hospital?" He knew full well why already-that Hellspawn was no easy opponent-but he was curious as to how he was found.

Emmy and Bronev both seemed to fidget. It was Bronev who ultimately spoke. "Due to the fire created by the Hellspawn, firefighters were called in. Police forces, led by Chief Inspector Grosky, also reached the area where you and the Hellspawn fought. Of course, though Hanna no longer chases Grosky as persistently as she used to, her knack for noticing police movements is still uncanny. She relayed this information to Bloom. Having worked for the police before, Bloom decided to see what had happened...and then he saw you..."

"You were in a terrible state," Emmy said. "Part of your cape was torn, there were huge cuts and gashes all over your body-the doctor says you could easily have died from shock or blood loss, though thankfully you are quite resilient."

"Hm. Where are the Hellspawn's remains?"

"Interestingly enough, the Hellspawn was missing an arm. The rest of it has been taken by the government for study. I assume that the Hellspawn fought you with both arms intact, so someone must have taken the severed one."

"An arm...? Who would want a Hellspawn arm? Is it possible it burned up?"

"No. Hellspawn are fireproof-not surprising, considering the conditions they usually live in."

Descole briefly winced as another jolt of pain coursed its way through his body, then promptly closed his eyes. The sound of faint snoring could be heard.

"Well," Bronev explained to a surprised Emmy, "he was always quick to fall asleep. By the way...what did you talk to him about?"

He noticed Emmy's downcast expression. "Did he-"

"I'd rather not talk about it, Uncle," Emmy whimpered. _Whimpered. _Emmy never did that unless she was in a truly unhappy mood.

_I'll talk to her about it later, _Bronev decided as he turned his attention back to his sleeping son.

* * *

Hershel Layton stared long and hard at the photograph in front of him. Indeed, he'd found a truly challenging puzzle.

_The Akbadain cipher...it's impossibly complex. I can't even get past the second ring! _

The professor had tried a variety of typical decryption techniques, but all of his efforts seemed to be for naught. He even called Dr. Schrader, who just so happened to be sick. It wasn't as if his mentor would be particularly helpful, either; Dr. Schrader was by no means an expert on the Azran. Randall, who was also trying to decipher the message, was equally frustrated. Each time, he ended up with nothing but gibberish. It was no surprise he was frustrated at this lack of progress.

Sighing, he perused an extremely long document about advanced code schemes when something caught his eye.

"Polyalphabetic substitution..." _What is this? _Intrigued, the professor read on.

_Polyalphabetic substitution is far more secure than monoalphabetic substitution. While monoalphabetic substitution is a simple system of setting one letter to mean another through a predetermined substitution alphabet, polyalphabetic substitution has many substitution alphabet, meaning a single letter in the original message can be encrypted in many ways. The most famous polyalphabetic cipher is the Vigenere cipher._

_In a Caesar cipher, each letter of the alphabet is shifted along some number of places. The Vigenère cipher consists of several Caesar ciphers in sequence with different shift values._

_To encrypt, a table of alphabets can be used, termed a _tabula recta_, _Vigenere square_, or _Vigenere table_. It consists of the alphabet written out 26 times in different rows, each alphabet shifted cyclically to the left compared to the previous alphabet, corresponding to the 26 possible Caesar ciphers. At different points in the encryption process, the cipher uses a different alphabet from one of the rows. The alphabet used at each point depends on a repeating keyword.  
_

_The person sending the message chooses a keyword and repeats it until it matches the length of the plaintext to make a key string. Each row of the _tabula recta_ starts with a key letter. The remainder of the row holds the letters A to Z (in shifted order). Although there are 26 key rows shown, you will only use as many keys (different alphabets) as there are unique letters in the keyword. For successive letters of the message, we are going to take successive letters of the key string, and encipher each message letter using its corresponding key row. Choose the next letter of the key, go along that row to find the column heading that matches the message character; the letter at the intersection of [key string letter-row, message letter-column] is the enciphered letter. _

The professor closed his eyes. _There are infinitely many possible keywords. If polyalphabetic substitution is what the Azran used, then I'll be sitting here for a while, especially since there are 264 letters to work with..._

_The keyword must be hidden somewhere._

Professor Layton sat up and called Randall.

"Hello, Hershel! What do you need?" Though Randall sounded cheerful, one could detect traces of fatigue. _Of course, only Randall would stay up as long as I did on something like this._

"I think I've figured out how to solve the second ring. But I'm not sure. I need you to test my theory."

"Really!? Great! I'm assuming you need my computer for it, since otherwise you wouldn't need me."

"How astute of you. Yes, I do need it..."

After an incredibly long time, the professor managed to explain polyalphabetic substitution to his friend. "So I need you to write a program to translate the second ring given a keyword. We can find the correct keyword through educated trial and error then."

"I think I can have it done by tomorrow...it seems pretty complicated. But I'm pretty sure this theory of yours is correct. Call me tomorrow, then." Randall hung up.

* * *

"Everything's arrived. We can begin now."

A chuckle. "Excellent. We still have over two weeks-more than enough time."

"Why do I get the feeling of deja vu?"

A tense silence followed. "I'm-"

"I know you are. Calm down-it was merely a statement. We should begin assembling the machine now-two weeks passes by faster than you think."

"Agreed." The figure stood. "The creation of the impossible..."

* * *

**Another filler chapter guys! I love you all too.**

**Please follow, favorite, or review! Of course, if you hate this story, this doesn't apply.**

**For those who are curious, I merely took the information about the polyalphabetic cipher from Wikipedia. (You didn't think I was THAT smart, did you?) For anyone who's curious (I mean, seriously, cryptography is really cool), you can read the Wikipedia article about Vigenere ciphers.**


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